Innocence Lost
by flashpenguin
Summary: Taking a sabbatical in Italy, Dave is about to meet up with a blast from his past. And Emily has to decide whether to break her cover to save her friend. Second in the "You Won't Get To Heaven Alive Series". Follows "My Love". COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

_What was supposed to be a one-shot has fueled my muse to create a movie in my head and now it's become a series. I hope you guys don't mind that what was supposed to be a hurt/comfort/friendship piece between Hotch and Dave is now going to be a Dave/Em crime/intrigue/suspense/romance piece. Please forgive me. Second in the "You Won't Get To Heaven Alive Series"._

_Dedicated to Patrizia._

_I don't own Criminal Minds, but I would have given anything to have had MGG direct the film my muse created; at least it would've made better sense on paper!_

_Song prompt: "Innocence Lost" by Amy Grant_

**Innocence Lost**

**Parco della Repubblica, S. Lazzaro, a municipality of Bologna, Italy.**

Dave looked around at his surroundings and took a seat at the canopied table. Taking the menu, he looked it over as a server approached him. Thin, pretty, soft black hair…for a moment his heart beat rapidly as he was consumed by a memory of the raven haired beauty who had been his partner.

"Sir?" the young woman asked in Italian, her brow furrowed.

Coming back to the present, Dave shook his head. "I'm sorry," he replied back in her native tongue.

"Are you ready to order?"

Dave glanced at the sheet. "I'll have the coffee and a scone," he replied and set the menu down.

With a soft smile, the server walked off. Shyly she cast a glance at the tall, dark man, but he was staring off into space.

Any other time in his life, Dave would have eaten the attention up, but not now. He wasn't sure about anything anymore and if he thought he was going to find the answers by getting away on holiday, he sure fooled himself. Now if only he could figure out why he chose Italy to come to, then maybe he would feel better about things.

Okay, so it had been the first thing that had popped up on the travel search when he was looking for fares. And it was the birthplace of his grandparents, but still… He sighed as the light breeze blew over him. He had forgotten it was still on the brink of spring when he set out earlier in nothing but a light weight sports coat. But he had wanted to get some sight seeing in before he left in a few days.

Having landed in Rome, he made his way through the well known cities before settling on S. Lazzaro to spend the remainder of his vacation before heading on to Belgium then England.

Thanking the server as she set the items down, he turned his thoughts back to the last conversation he had had with Hotch. He needed to make a decision about his future…and soon. He wanted to stay at the FBI but without the fire in his belly, he didn't want to be there taking up space and air. But what difference would it be if he was stuck at home all day twiddling his thumbs and fighting writer's block?

Sipping the hot brew, he considered the possibilities.

There was always the teaching position…or a desk job…or worse…being kept on, but sent out to pasture and mentor young up and coming agents. His love for fighting crime only went so far. And there was no way he was going to mentor and get close to some fresh faced kid only to watch them lose their life while trying to apprehend the bad guy. Once was enough. One heart break was more than enough to last a life time.

Still that left the question of what he was going to do when he stepped back on US land in twenty three days… God, how was it possible he could get into the mind of a serial killer and predict their next move, but when it came to dissecting his pathetic existence, he was out of answers?

He could always get married again, he groused as he cut the delicate scone and chewed the bite thoughtfully. What was that saying? The fourth time is the charm? _Hell Dave, if it couldn't work for Liz Taylor or Larry King, what makes you think it would work for you?_

True…but it never hurt to wish. Besides, he was a writer and every writer lived a bit of their lives in fantasy… He stopped in mid thought as his nose picked up a scent. On alert, he dropped his fork and looked around. He was being watched. Carefully, he scanned the area trying to pick out who might be tailing him.

He made sure not to call attention to himself as his eyes, concealed by sunglasses, looked over each and every face in the crowd. Nothing was out of place, but still…what was that smell? Vanilla? His mind searched to put a name to it. Vanilla Sandalwood! That was it! Emily!

Standing up, he spun around quickly but no one was there. Confused, he looked around again. A couple of women glanced at him and smiled. Smiling back, he sat down and finished his meal.

Pushing the plate back, he drained the coffee cup. He needed to get back to his hotel and rest. It was bad enough that he had let Emily haunt him during cases, but now she was haunting him on his vacation. Maybe that was the sign he needed to hang up his credentials once and for all.

"Will there be anything else?" the server asked as she scanned Dave from head to toe. Unconcealed desire was in her eyes. No ring on the finger was the first thing she noticed, then she made her way up his body to his face. He was a foreigner - an American - but that was alright.

"No, thank you," Dave replied.

"Are you in Italy for business or pleasure?" she wondered as she gathered up the dishes.

"Vacation. I had hoped to clear my head and make sense of some things, but…"

"Vacations are supposed to clear your mind," she agreed. "What's irritating you that you cannot relax and enjoy your time off?"

Dave hesitated. It wasn't like him to open up to strangers but there was something familiar and comforting about her. And God knew he couldn't keep it inside a minute longer.

"I came here to forget someone."

"A lover?"

"A friend," Dave corrected.

"She left you?"

"She was killed."

"So you came to Italy to forget her? Or to remember?"

"Uh…" Dave struggled to remember if he had caught her name.

"Patrizia," the woman offered. "She must have hurt you very much for you to still be grieving."

"Her death was sudden," Dave remarked as tears threatened to choke him. He hadn't cried since the night of the funeral but he could feel a bout coming on. "She loved Italy. She grew up outside Rome," he added. "I wanted to come here and lay her ghost to rest."

"You are a good friend," Patrizia commented and touched Dave's shoulder gently. "How did you end up here?"

"Just driving around. I made it to all the tourist spots. I fly back to the States in a week." Dave pulled out his wallet and extracted a few bills to hand to Patrizia.

"Since you are new here, maybe I can show you around," she offered and handed him a slip of paper.

Dave gave her a half smile. "Thanks for the offer, but I'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Just in case you change your mind." Patrizia turned and walked away. Dave watched her, then looked down at the yellow piece of paper. Opening it, he read her name and number. Giving a slight snort, he folded it and placed it in his breast pocket. He wasn't interested, but he was still here for the night and anything was possible.

Turning, he made his way to the sidewalk and was suddenly knocked back as a body collided with him. Trying to regain his balance, he caught the woman by the shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine. I'm fine," the blonde woman replied in Russian before hiking her purse strap up and hurrying down the sidewalk.

Dave sniffed the air. There it was again. It was the woman he had just held. Looking around, he searched for her, but she was gone. Where had she gone?

Another look around, then he gave up. Maybe he was just imagining things. But that feeling of being watched was still eating at him. It was just as well he was leaving tomorrow. Picking up the pace, he walked back to his hotel.  
*****

Slipping between the two buildings, the woman who had bumped into Dave was struggling to catch her breath. Pressing a hand to heart, she felt the tears threaten to overwhelm her.

_Dave!_

_What was he doing in Italy? Was something wrong? Had Doyle done something? Why hadn't JJ notified her? _

"Calm down_,"_ Em cautioned herself_, _"he didn't recognize you. At least I don't think he did." Still… She peeked around the corner of the brick building and scanned the area. The guy with the dark sun glasses and aviator jacket was still sitting across the street from where Dave had been. Dave was being tailed.

She had heard something thru the grapevine but wasn't sure. Until now. Doyle had found Dave. But how? How did the terrorist manage to slip thru American customs? This was not good.

Pulling out her phone, Em dialed quickly and waited. "Yes, I have a complaint about the order you sent me. If you look close at the manifest, you will find that Irish sourdough got mixed in too. The place it ended up should be on your computer. I'll take all loaves, yes." She nodded. "Let's make sure this gets cleared up. I'll try to send back the erroneous order in one piece."

Hanging up. Em placed the phone in her purse. She had let Hotch know that Dave was in Italy and was being tailed. Now she had to pray that she got to Dave and made him understand all the deceit before Doyle made his move.

Before it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

_Okay, I got a lot of grief for the call Em left for Hotch. And if there is one thing I really hate, it's being doubted that I won't be able to explain what something meant or my ability to weave a good plot and twist it in a way that makes the reader go "whoa! I never saw that coming!" For those wondering, here is the gist of Em's code: (I)'ll (T)ake (A)ll (L)oaves, (Y)es = ITALY._

**Innocence Lost**

Aaron Hotchner's pen moved briskly over the stack of papers. He had come in early to finish up the reports that had fallen by the wayside as of late. Yes, he should have taken the time off to spend a day at the amusement park with Jack, but there was too much on his mind to garner much happiness from screaming kids and over priced snacks.

Since Jessica offered to take Jack - along with some other kids she watched - Hotch didn't feel as guilty as he may have…if only his thoughts weren't with Dave. It had been just a little over a week since he had ordered his friend out of the BAU and on to vacation. He hadn't wanted to know where he was going or what he was doing…as long as whatever it was got his mind off his guilt over Emily and possible retirement and back in the FBI where it belonged.

Dave should try to be a little bit more like him - with work to keep the insanity at bay. Who was he kidding? Ever since he conspired to kill Emily to keep Ian Doyle at bay, he had felt like Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with his team…and with his life.

Looking at his watch as he cleared another stack, he wondered if maybe he shouldn't finish up what he had and call it a day. After all, it was only eleven and the sun was still shining. The sudden ring of his cell caught him off guard.

Grabbing it, he looked at the caller ID: Payton Singletary flashed as ten zeros followed. Flipped the phone open, he hit "talk" and said hello. Searching for a pen, he jotted down what was relayed. Flipping the phone closed, he looked at the scribble and tried to make sense out of it.

_Irish sourdough. Manifest. Erroneous order in one piece. I'll take all loaves yes… _Hotch peered at the note Emily had just relayed him. _Think Aaron, think! _He ordered himself. Another glance and the words like missing puzzle pieces began to fall into place.

Oh shit!

Quickly he dialed and waited.

"Jennifer Jareau speaking," the voice greeted him.

"JJ, it's Hotch. Emily just phoned me; Dave's in Italy."

"He's what? How did that happen?" JJ asked in surprise.

"I don't know, but Doyle is there too, and he knows Dave's there."

"Have you notified Strauss?"

"I called you first. Emily's let me know that she's going to do her best to get Dave out of there before Doyle makes a move, but if that's not possible…"

"She's going to have to break her cover," JJ finished.

"How did Doyle get out of the States?" Hotch demanded. "Wasn't he on the 'no fly list'?"

"Hotch, I will have to get back to you; I'm not at the office right now. Let me find a sitter for Henry and I will meet you at the BAU. Until then, find a way to get Em to let Dave know he needs to lay low until we can get him out of there."

Hotch paused as the weight of the situation began to sink in. "This is not going to end well for anyone involved."

JJ took a deep breath. "I know."  
******

Revenge.

Was there a sweeter word in the English vocabulary, Ian Doyle wondered to himself as he fingered the photos on his desk. For over a year he had been biding his time as he laid the groundwork to get back at the people who had denied him the chance to find out where his son was hidden. The son Emily Prentiss had taken from him. She had deliberately denied him his flesh and blood…his family.

Then her family had denied him the satisfaction of torturing Emily until she gave up her secret. He had wanted to take her to the brink of death and then pull her back as many times as it would take to make her tell him what he wanted to know. He wanted to watch as the light faded from her eyes and her body grew cold as he took everything from her.

But those people she had loved more than him had denied him that sweet moment of revenge by running in and saving the day. Except they couldn't save Emily. They had been too late and she had died. He had watched from the grove of trees as the somber faced agents laid their sister in arms to rest in the cold, dark, lonely ground. He had watched as they said the simple words of loss and laid their flowers on the casket.

He had waited until they got in their cars and left Emily alone. Only then did he sneak out to stand beside the box containing Emily's remains. He wanted to break the seal and open the lid to see with his own eyes the waxen face of the woman he had given his life and child to. He wanted to see with his own eyes the cold, hard flesh of the woman he had made love to and trusted. He wanted to look at the woman who had taken everything he loved away.

The feelings overwhelmed him past the point of insanity, but he couldn't do it. The area was too public and there was no telling who would have come up and seen him. Instead, he grabbed the roses and walked off.

Six roses. Six agents.

One rose for each agent. And he knew who was going first - the one Emily had denied him. The one who caused Emily's breath to catch and her eyes fill with tears. The one she had talked him out of killing: David Rossi.

But Emily was dead now. She could no longer beg for mercy or bargain for the life of a man she loved. Oh, he had seen it in her eyes - whether she was aware of it or not - love that she had never had for him. He had seen it before when they sat quietly at the café and he ticked off each one of her team. Her eyes had flashed at the mention of Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi…so they were first on his list.

Emily was good at keeping secrets, but she would have told someone in her team about Declyn. And even if she hadn't, they knew something; they were the FBI and good at digging things up. Hell, they had found where he had taken Emily, what was to keep them from finding out about his son? They knew where he was and if he had to drive nails into every single one of their extremities to get the information, then so be it. He had nothing but time in the hell he had been sentenced to.

Flipping the picture over, he looked at the note that accompanied it: David Rossi's itinerary. Better than manna from heaven. Italy would be too easy to take out the FBI Lothario and it would alert the team to his whereabouts. Besides, it would make David's day to die in the country of his family's origin.

Belgium was next on his travel. Ah, he knew Belgium well. There were two places he could get to the agent and make it seem like an accident…especially since David's attitude over Emily's death had left him mostly despondent for the past year. No one would question a rock slide or a patch of ice. And by the time the team started putting the pieces together, Aaron and Derek would be next on the list. As would their families.

Picking up the phone, Ian dialed.

"I received the pictures you sent me. Are you sure he is alone?" Ian asked with slight arrogance in his tone.

"I have checked him out and his room," the voice on the other end assured, "and he is traveling by himself, though there was the woman at the café."

Ian shrugged. "David's reputation precedes him and he would never say no to a meaningless fuck. If she goes to his room, you know what to do…"

"It will cost you more."

"Money means nothing to me. If she visits him, you eliminate her."

"And him, too?"

Ian's face hardened. "No. Do it after he leaves tomorrow. We don't want him to get suspicious. Just keep following him. When the time is right, he will pay for what he's done. Is that understood?"

"Understood."

"Did you bug his room like I paid you to?" Ian questioned.

"Everything is in place."

"Good. Keep me posted." Ian hung up and leaned back in his chair. Everything was about to go down, and when it did, he would seek his revenge with pleasure and then walk away without so much as a backwards glance. Ant there was no one to stop him.

It was almost too easy.


	3. Chapter 3

_Third chapter. Doyle means business and he will stop at nothing to exact revenge on everyone associated with Emily. With only one chance to warn Dave, Em will have to make a bold move that could kill them both. _

_On a side note, for those following my other stories, I want to let you know that I have NOT forgotten them. I finished moving, but my computer is still in storage with all my notes. Hopefully, I'll be able to retrieve everything so updates can be made quickly. Thank you so much for your patience. I appreciate you guys more than I can say._

**Innocence Lost**

Dave stepped out of the stall and wrapped a towel around his waist. The shower had helped to wash the chill in the air away and bring him back to life. Grabbing another towel, he rubbed it over his hair to gather the moisture. Taking a look in the foggy mirror, he sighed. Tomorrow he would be heading toward Belgium. Not the most exciting place on earth, but with the new story he was entertaining, Belgium seemed like the right place for FBI espionage.

There were two areas he needed to visit and note before he moved on to England and Scotland Yard. He figured if he was going to make it a crime fic, he may as well go all out. Plus, he wanted to pick up some of the fine English toffee his mother loved so much.

Emily had loved toffee, too. He used to tease her about her 'addiction' as she liked to call it… Dave ran a hand over his weary face and tried to gather himself together. "Come on, Dave," he chastised the image in the mirror, "it's been one year; you need to move on. Hotch was right; you can't keep living in the past. Besides, it's not as though you had anything serious with her. She was just your partner."

A partner who sacrificed her life for her team. A sacrifice he would never be able to thank her for. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He wondered - not for the first time - if coming to Italy had been his wisest choice. Shaking his head, he hung the towel on the rod. Ever since everything went to hell, he wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Grabbing his robe, he slipped it on. Looking at his watch, he calculated that he could still make it down to the corner café and get a bite before coming back to start packing. He wanted to get an early start.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Dave walked over to the bed. Pressing the remote, he turned on the TV. It was only the news, but mindless chatter beat deafening silence any day of the week. God knew he needed something to help chase the endless regrets out of his head.

Drawing the heavy tapestries closed, he took off his robe and got dressed for dinner.  
****

Em crept down the quiet hallway to the last door on the right. She shouldn't be here; she should be watching Doyle's crony, but after Hotch called her back and demanded that she do everything not to break cover and get Dave back stateside, she had no choice. Her mission was obvious: get Dave out of Italy alive - or else!

She pushed her sunglasses back up her nose and glanced around to make sure the coast was clear. Bending over, she slipped the manila envelope under the door. Without warning, the door was swung open and Dave was standing before her.

"What the hell…?" Dave cursed at the blonde woman standing in front of his door. Slowly it dawned on him that she was the same one he had bumped into outside the café earlier. He took in the pale blonde hair, dark sunglasses, and grey over coat. The moment could have been out of a bad spy movie and too comical for words…if the situation hadn't had danger written all over it.

Eyeing her tall, dark and handsome ex-teammate, she took in his black slacks, grey dress shirt, and black Italian leather boots. His hair was still damp and fell over his forehead. _Had he just gotten out of the shower? _she wondered silently. Swallowing hard, Em tried to speak, but the words failed to materialize.

"Get in here!" Dave demanded, grabbing her wrist and yanking her inside the hotel room. "What are you doing?"

"I - I don't understand…" Em replied in a thick Russian accent.

"What. Are. You. Doing?" Dave repeated slowly so she could comprehend.

"I thought this was my room." Inwardly, Em groaned at the lame excuse but she had been caught unprepared. _Why had he opened the door?_

"Then why did you slip an envelope under the door?" he asked. Holding her wrist, something triggered in his memory. Something was so familiar about her, but he couldn't put his finger on it. _And_ she was wearing that damn perfume.

"I don't know." Em tried to free herself. She had to get out of there before Doyle killed them both. "I thought it was another room."

"I'm calling security." Dave pulled her along as he reached for the phone and began dialing.

"No!" she yelped and covered her mouth. She had used her real voice.

Dave's eyes narrowed. He replaced the receiver. "I know that voice. Who are you?"

"I'm no one; let me go!" Em struggled harder to get away but Dave's grip tightened.

"Tell me what is in that envelope! Who are you? Who sent you?" he growled.

"Let. Me. Go!" Pushing hard against his chest, Dave stumbled as Em hurried for the door and escape. She needed to call Hotch and find a way to get Dave a security detail. Then she would go back underground and help Interpol catch Doyle.

Recovering from the force of her shove, Dave tried to grab her; he couldn't let her get away. Was it coincidence that he had bumped into her twice in one day? He had to find out who she was and how she knew him. And most of all, what was so important that she had to slip an envelope under his door without knocking?

Rushing after her, he reached out again, trying to get her coat…arm…something to make her stay. But he grabbed her hair and then gasped as the blonde locks came off in his hand and black hair tumbled down over the mystery woman's shoulders.

In shock, he looked at the wig then at the woman. "Em-" he started but was cut off by her mouth covering his.

Em hadn't meant to kiss him, but she had to do something to make him stop before he said her name out loud. She only wanted to shut him up, but as her lips moved over his, she found herself trying to remember what exactly the mission was…oh yeah! Save his life!

Dave couldn't breathe. One second he was missing his dead co-worker and the next she was in his arms._ Em was alive!_ How many nights had he fantasized about holding her? How many times in the past year had he fallen to his knees and prayed to have her back for five minutes so he could tell her everything he meant to say but couldn't? He was going to kill Hotch when he got back to the BAU… But for now, he was going to find out what the hell was going on.

Moaning low in her throat, Em pulled Dave closer. Although he was a heavenly kisser, it was all for show. Doyle's men were staking out the room and taking notes; she had to make the moment real…or as real as possible. Trailing her lips along his jaw line, she stroked his back. Nuzzling his earlobe, she heard him draw in his breath.

"Listen to me," she whispered so low, she wondered if he could hear her. "Everything you need to know is in the envelope. Don't say my name, don't make any sudden moves; your room is bugged. Trust me."

Letting him go, Em grabbed the wig and hurriedly put it back on. Satisfied, she put her finger to her lips and quietly slipped out of the room. The door closed quietly behind her.

Trying to catch his breath, Dave bent over and picked up the manila envelope. Opening it, Em's words rang in his ears. Checking over his shoulder, he went into the bathroom, closed the door, and locked it behind him.

Sitting down on the commode lid, he drew the papers out. His itinerary stared back at him. Shaking his head, he flipped it over.

_Dave, your life is in danger; Doyle knows you are here. Please do as I ask and don't make a scene. Tomorrow morning go to the airport. Before you check in, the name "Audie Murphy" will be announced over the PA. Make your way to the nearest phone. You will be given instructions where to go from there. Trust me, your life - and the team's lives - depend on it. P.s. Don't call Hotch from your phone - or any phone - or attempt to contact him via the computer. Doyle means business._

Dave read the words twice more. Slowly their meaning sunk in. Reaching in, he pulled out pictures of himself being watched and followed by an unknown man. A chill went thru him.

Em was alive. Hotch lied. And Doyle wanted to kill him.

Was it too late to change his mind about taking a vacation to get away from it all?


	4. Chapter 4

_Em has managed to get Dave out of Italy in one piece…but it's anything but smooth sailing as Dave goes looking for answers. Meanwhile "it's" about to hit the fan back in Quantico._

_Reader FYI: All conversation from Em's reply to Dave - and after - is *spoken* in Italian and is high lighted in italics._

Innocence Lost

The fasten seatbelts sign went off and movement began in the small cabin of the plane. As the flight attendants took drink orders, the volume level of the passengers' conversations increased.

Dave leaned his seat back as he tried to get comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as a flight to France and a couple of scotches would get him. Everything was changed - his plans, his career…his life. All because Emily Prentiss had to come back to life and thrown a monkey wrench into everything. Turning his head, he looked at her. It was time to get some questions answered.

Leaned back in the seat, her eyes covered by large sunglasses, Em appeared to be asleep, but her senses were on high alert. Her body yearned for rest, but her mind knew that no matter how well she had managed to cover their bases in such a short amount of time, Doyle's men could still find them. And there was no doubt in her mind that he would kill her…but only after torturing Dave to death. Involuntarily she shuddered at the thought of her partner paying for her sins.

Turning her head slightly, she glanced around the plane. Twenty people were on the early flight to Cannes and none looked suspicious. Or at least not enough to send her antenna up. Or it could be that the man sitting in the next chair boring his eyes into her was messing up the signal.

"_What?" _she asked. A flight attendant stopped to take their drink order. As she moved down the aisle, Em tried to calm her chaotic nerves by breathing in deeply.

"Are you kidding me?" Dave asked incredulously. "I find out that after a year of grieving and blaming myself for not reading the signs - you are alive! Then I find out that Hotch - who is my best friend…or was - lied to me. Then to add insult to injury, the mad man who 'killed' you - or thinks he 'killed' you- wants _me_ dead."

Em lowered her sunglasses slightly to look at him over the rim. _"I told you we have to conduct all of our conversations in Italian,"_ she whispered. The flight attendant handed them their drinks. Sipping the scotch, Em savored the potent liquid as it ran down her throat.

"Dave…"

"_I was sent on a sabbatical to get my head on straight and to come to grips with your murder. I wanted to retire and write at my cabin - just me and my dog and my thoughts…and my guilt." _He took a large swallow of the amber liquid.

"_I didn't know."_

"_That I was coming to Italy? Or that I was so torn up that I couldn't breathe? Why would you?"_ He paused and finished the drink. _"You were dead, Emily."_

"_Hotch…"_

"_Had no idea that I was coming over here; he told me to get lost for forty days; I came over here to find myself and instead I found you…"_ Dave's voice trailed off. There was anger in his tone, but it was also laced with sadness and confusion.

"_I'm so sorry. None of this was supposed to go this way."_

"_Which way was it supposed to go?"_

"_Dave…"_

"_Tell me, Emily,"_ Dave began, his tone low, _"Tell me which direction this was supposed to go. Tell me how everything I thought I knew is suddenly wrong? Hell, I can't write a story half as good as what transpired in the past 24 hours."_

Emily sipped her drink…or at least tried to. _"I will make it up to you."_

"_It better be a helluva move on your part."_

Em sighed. _"When we get to France, we'll get this situated and then I'll get you back to D.C."_

Dave raised an eyebrow. _"Where are you going?"_

"_I'm staying behind to kill Doyle,"_ she replied calmly.

"_The hell you will! You're coming back to D.C. so you and Hotch can explain to me and the team what the hell you both were thinking."_

Fear filled Em's gut. "_The team is in danger; I can't do that. If Doyle gets wind that I am alive, he's not only going to kill me, but he's going to go after everyone else…and their families. He lives for revenge. Believe me."_ Her hand unconsciously covered the scar on her stomach.

"_Is that why he came after me?" _Dave asked.

"_You came here,"_ was Em's simple reply.

"_What the hell does that mean?"_

"_In his mind you provoked him by trespassing on his territory."_

"_He's Irish; his territory is Ireland. Mine is Italy. How the fuck was I trespassing?"_

"_Doyle views Europe as his. As long as you were in D.C. the rules were easy because the team was off limits as long as I appeared to be dead. Your coming over here - regardless if coincidence or planned - null and voided the rules."_

"_What does that mean?" _Dave asked. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from her.

Lowering the sunglasses all the way, Em looked him straight in the eyes before replying, _"Game on."_  
****

"What exactly are you telling me, Agent Hotchner?" Erin Strauss demanded as she paced the length of her desk.

"There is a chance that Ian Doyle has found out that Emily Prentiss is alive and now her and Rossi's lives are in jeopardy."

Stopping in mid stride, the blonde director turned to look at the agent whom she despised. "How did that happen? Wasn't Agent Prentiss given passports and new identities?" she directed toward JJ.

"Yes ma'am. Something on our end failed."

Strauss picked up the fax from the Department of Homeland Security. "This states that Ian Doyle not only evaded capture, he managed to evade the No Fly List and get past security and get on a plane."

"We are looking in to that snafu," JJ replied.

"This is beyond a 'snafu'. I want to know how Agent Rossi ended up over in Italy?" she demanded.

Hotch ran a hand across his forehead. "I ordered him to go on vacation before he decided to retire."

"Why didn't you just let the son of a bitch retire? No," she interjected quickly, "don't answer that." Walking around the desk, Strauss sat down. "So, where do we stand right now?"

"I have DHS on it right now and they should have something back shortly," JJ answered.

"Has Agent Prentiss's cover been compromised?"

"Not that I am aware of," Hotch supplied. "She called me this morning and left a brief message that she was changing Agent Rossi's itinerary and taking him to France. Agent Jareau arranged it for them to get new identities when they arrive in Cannes."

"What about the other members on your team? What is happening with them?"

"We have a 24 hour guard at the care facility where Agent Reid's mother is staying. Agent Morgan's mother and sisters have been moved to a safe house in East St Louis. Agent Jareau and her family are staying at the Embassy. Penelope Garcia is going to stay here at the BAU. I have her tracking Doyle."

"And your son? What is happening with him?" Strauss inquired. She may hate Hotch, but she was still a mother and her children meant everything to her.

"Jack and Jessica are at the Navy Lodge in Norfolk."

"Does any of the team know that Agent Prentiss is alive?" Strauss asked.

"Not yet. I was going to brief them once we make sure their respective families are safe."

"What about Ian Doyle?"

"Interpol has been notified. Unfortunately, since he did use an assumed name and forged passport to get out of the country, it's going to be a little hard to track him. We have the best teams on it right now," JJ confirmed.

"Has anyone notified Ambassador Prentiss?" Strauss wondered a loud.

Hotch and JJ looked at one another. Hotch spoke first.

"We have contacted the embassy in London but she is out of the country on a diplomatic mission with the Prime Minister. We have left word for her to call us immediately."

"Do you think Doyle knows about the Ambassador?"

Hotch shrugged. "It's hard to say. Interpol destroyed most of Emily's records and there was no mention of Elizabeth Prentiss in anything I reviewed. It's possible that he has not made the connection."

"Make sure he doesn't. So, what are the plans for recovering your agents?" Strauss inquired.

"Emily is going to make sure Rossi gets here alive."

"And her?"

"She is going to stay behind in Europe to take care of unfinished business."

"I see…" Strauss twirled the pencil around her fingers. "I do have one request."

"Yes, Director?" Hotch asked.

"I want both of my agents back here safe."

Hotch stood up. JJ followed.

"I understand," Hotch replied.

"And this is off the record; I want that bastard dead." Strauss's glare was sharp and cold. Hotch had seen that look too many times before to know that she wasn't fooling around.

Hotch nodded.

"Good day, agents. Keep me posted." Spinning her chair around, Strauss stared out the large window.

Escorting JJ out of the office, Hotch closed the door.

"Did she say what I think she said?" JJ sputtered.

"No. She said it 'off the record'. Let's go see where Emily and Dave are so we can update them." Hotch cupped a hand on the small of her back and guided her down the hall toward the bullpen.


	5. Chapter 5

_Doyle is about to find out the meaning of "the best laid plans of mice and men…" While in Quantico, not all is well on the home front with the sudden disruption in lives and Morgan is getting suspicious._

**Innocence Lost**

Sunlight poured through the bay window of Ian Doyle's lavish penthouse apartment. Standing next to the large desk, he flipped through the folder and read the contents - though he knew it all by heart.

Absent mindedly he fingered the copy of the travel manifest. The plan had been made and the trap set, now all he had to do was wait for his prey to walk into it. David Rossi was about to breathe his last as a live man. Victory was so close he could almost taste it.

Now if only the phone would ring to let him know that one was down and there were five to go. Too bad he couldn't be there when the light started to go out of his eyes…like when he missed watching Emily take her last breath, but he was going to watch as each of their friends begged and pleaded with mercy. They would be telling him their deepest darkest secrets when he was done…

The shrill of his cell phone cut through his thoughts.

"Where is he?" Doyle asked quickly.

"He never showed up."

Doyle cursed. "What do you mean he never showed up? Where the hell is he?"

"The flight was called. He never checked in."

"Have Clancy check his hotel room. Were there any visitors last night?" Doyle demanded.

"A woman stopped by."

"I knew he couldn't keep it in his pants. Was it the one from the café?"

"Bryan was monitoring. I will get that back to you."

"You have ten minutes." Doyle's meaning was clear. Snapping the cell shut, he impatiently paced the floor. He counted the seconds down. Seeing the caller ID, he clicked the phone back on.

"What did you find out?" he snapped.

"David Rossi checked out at four-thirty this morning."

"Alone?"

"The concierge said he was met at the front desk by a blonde."

"Not the one from yesterday." Doyle's mind started spinning.

"No."

"Where did they go?"

"We're finding out; I'm still at the airport. What do you want me to do?"

"Show his picture to ticket agents; he has the face no one can forget."

"What about the woman?"

"The room was bugged. I want every single recording of everything he said. If that woman stopped by, she did it for a reason. Find out who she is and we will find him."

"I will bring them personally…."

Doyle cut him off by cutting the phone off. Throwing it against the couch, he cursed in Gaelic.  
*****

"I still don't understand why we have to stay here," Desiree Morgan complained over the phone.

"It's just a precaution Des. After what happened to Hotch, we can't risk it."

"What am I going to tell them at work?"

Morgan sighed and ran a hand over his head. "I'll call them for you."

"Mom isn't going to like being guarded as though our lives are in danger."

"Momma will understand."

"Can you at least tell us a little about what is going on?"

Morgan lowered his voice. "The man who murdered Emily Prentiss is going after us."

"Why?"

"I can't get into it."

"We could die!" Desiree's voice rose.

"The best FBI agents are guarding you; nothing is going to happen."

"Is that what happened to Haley Hotchner?" she replied sarcastically.

"Des, I am not going to get into this while I'm at work. Tell Momma that I'll call her later tonight."

"Derek!"

"Bye Desiree…" Morgan hung up the phone. Leaning back in his chair, he tried to calm his nerves. He might be the youngest of three but there were times when he wondered how he was the mature one of the bunch?

"Trouble?" Garcia asked cautiously.

"Desiree hates WitSec."

"Poor thing. I don't blame her."

"If Doyle left the States, why is the FBI putting our families in protective custody?"

"Derek, they don't tell me anything…" Garcia lowered her voice. "But if you want a little 4-1-1 - you didn't hear this from me - something big is going down."

Morgan perked up. Eyes shining, he flashed a winning smile as he leaned in. "Don't hold back. What do you know?"

"What's in it for me?" Garcia teased and batted her eyelashes.

"Baby Girl, point and grunt and it's yours. But this better be worth it."

"Hotch was in with Strauss for nearly an hour…with JJ," she added.

"JJ?" Morgan's brow furrowed by her news.

"After they left, there was a big meeting with the FBI _and_ CIA directors!" Morgan's eyebrows rose. "And DHS was in there too."

"What is going on?" Morgan's tone matched Garcia's.

"Honestly, I don't know for sure, but it involves the BAU and Ian Doyle."

"There is no way he is going to make a move with everyone watching him. Plus, he is on the No Fly List; his escape routes are pretty limited…unless he wants to swim the Atlantic back to Merry old Ireland."

Garcia bit her tongue. Hotch had sworn her to secrecy about the turn of events regarding the FBI's Most Wanted International Murderer. Morgan was going to lose it when he heard, but losing it in the bull pen would not be the best thing for everyone. Besides, it was Hotch's news to dole out.

"Too bad Rossi is on vacation," Morgan continued. "He gets to miss out on all the fun." Picking up a pen, he tossed it to the desk in frustration. "What I would give to trade places with that lucky bastard right now."

"I have to get back to work," Garcia stood up from the desk. "I think I know what I want."

"What is that, Mama?"

Garcia pointed at him and grunted. "Well, you said…" Her eyes danced with mischief.

"Baby Girl, if this lead pays off, I will be yours for life."

Garcia chewed her bottom lip. "I'm betting on it." Turning on her heel, she left the office.

Morgan watched her leave, then turned back to the files on his desk.


	6. Chapter 6

_Em and Dave have arrived in Cannes safe and…er, sound…sort of. Please forgive me for any discrepancies in geography since I have never been to Europe…much less France and am only going on an atlas and what I've read._

**Innocence Lost**

Keeping her sun glasses on, Em profiled the older French car salesman as he quoted her prices the used fiats in the lot. Keeping one eye on the area, she made sure she was facing the front of the yard at all times. The coast was clear and they had made their escape with just hours to spare, but they were not free yet.

"_I can let you have this beauty for three thousand euros_," the salesman stated loudly, bringing Em back to the present.

"_For a twenty year old car?"_ Em asked with a puff.

He shrugged. _"It is a good car. My son used it for years."_

"_Just the same…_" Em moved over a couple of rows. Dave was alone in the motel with nothing but their go bags and she had to hurry. "_How about this one?"_ She ran her hand over the light blue bonnet. The salesman paused. That was her opening. _"I can give you twenty two hundred euros…cash,"_ she added.

The salesman pondered the offer, then he smiled. _"Deal._" He shook Em's hand. Digging in to her purse, Em pulled out a roll of bills and handed them over. She pulled back as the man made a grab.

"_There is one catch, you can not tell anyone we were here."_

The man's eyes looked Em's slender figure over. "_Spies?"_

Em's smile widened as her eyes half closed. _"You could say that. Keep this transaction to yourself and you will find a bonus."_

"_Oui!"_ He agreed and rushed to the office to retrieve the keys. Stepping back outside, his hand paused before handing over the key ring. _"Your husband is a lucky man,"_ the salesman gushed as his eyes hungrily devoured Em from head to toe.

_"Yes, he is,"_ Em returned.

Watching her closely, the salesman felt jealous of a man he had never met even though his brain reminded him that his wife was waiting at home for him.

_"You and your husband are on your honeymoon?"_ he asked in broken English.

_"We are. Two weeks today. I wanted to show him my home country."_

_"Where are you from?"_

_"Marseilles,"_ Em replied without a pause.

"_Good to have you back home. Go with God." _He watched as Em and got in the car and drove off. Unrolling the bills, he counted them as a smile it up his face.  
****

Dave kicked off his shoes and sat down on the bed. It wasn't the Sleep Number he was used to, but it was better than nothing so he could forgive it. Letting out a groan, he lay back against the mattress and closed his eyes. The silence in the room was deafening but it reminded him that he was alive.

_But for how much longer? _his mind questioned. He had done everything Em had requested and they had made it out of Italy but they were still only one step ahead of Doyle.

If only he could call Hotch. Every answer he needed was in DC and at the BAU, but he didn't dare pick up a phone. Calls could be traced…with the right equipment - a computer and a savvy tech - even his cell could be located. And when it came to international terrorists, any call could be like the proverbial bread crumb to lead right to where he and Em were hiding.

Sitting up, he looked around at the quaint room at the sparse furniture and out dated décor on the walls. Maybe if he closed his eyes and wished really hard, he could make it the Hyatt Regency… Nope, it was still there. So much for trying. Maybe he could channel that wishing business into Em hurrying up and JJ getting their new identities.

Still…the room wasn't all that bad; it had two twin beds with fresh sheets and hot running water. In his book, that was all that mattered because Lord knew he needed a shower.

Standing up, he rifled thru his go bad and located his travel kit and pajamas. Heading toward the bathroom, he stopped by the mirror for a quick look. He grimaced at his reflection, his hand stroked his chin. He missed his goatee. But there was nothing he could do about that now.

Closing the door, he turned on the tap. Undressing, he folded the clothing and placed it on the shelf over the toilet. Pulling back the shower curtain, he stepped into the tub and let the water run over his aching body. Em would be back shortly with dinner and news. He hoped that at least one was good.  
*****

Em inserted the key and turned the knob. Slowly she edged the door open with her foot. Shifting the take out to her other arm, she touched her glock for reassurance as soft light and snoring greeted her. Dave!

Tip-toeing inside, she was careful not to make any noise as she closed and dead bolted the door behind her and placed a chair under the door knob. Setting the bags on the small table, she kicked off her shoes and tried to relax. She had gotten a brief text to Hotch to brief him on their location and status. He returned that the new passports and ID's would be arriving in the morning. They were supposed to sit and wait until then.

Sit and wait. What a laugh.

She had been on the run for over a year without so much as a pause as she tried to out fox the crazed man who wanted her dead…an international terrorist who had once been her lover. Now he was her killer and if he had it his way, he would be adding her team to the body count. God's revenge had nothing on Ian Doyle when his path had been crossed.

She and Dave had made it to Cannes without any problems and skirted through Customs in a blink of an eye, but the coast was far from clear. Any minute Doyle would figure out he's been duped and then all hell would break loose. And every second that they waited to make their next move was one second off their lives.

Sitting down on the twin bed opposite of Dave, Em removed her blonde wig and ran a hand over her eyes. She was so tired, but there was no time to sleep. There was hardly any time to catch her breath. From the moment her path crossed with Dave's she had been furiously trying to form a plan to get him out of Italy without Doyle knowing.

For an entire week she had trailed Dave from one area to another…from museum to cathedral she was his shadow. Partly from fierce loyalty - and that she needed to drink in the familiarity of a home and time long gone - but also because Doyle's goon was tailing the senior FBI agent. It had taken everything in her not to walk up and break cover, but it would have served no purpose if they both wound up dead.

So, she pulled strings and paid off people she would never have associated with in the real world and got information on what Doyle was planning. Then _her_ plan went into effect. Within twenty four hours she had been exposed, let Dave know he was a dead man walking, and got them both out of Italy. Alive.

Alive didn't mean that Dave wasn't going to have his say when the moment was right, but at least he would be breathing to do so.

Yawning and stretching, Em placed her glock on the night stand. The food was going to get cold, but it would still be edible. Right now she needed to rest.

Stretching out on the comforter, she made sure the heavy tapestries were drawn and the chair was secure, then she turned out the light. Beginning her relaxation from her toes up, she turned her head to look at the sleeping man no less than a meter away. And her heart broke. She had tried so hard to protect the team from her past and now they were not only caught up in it, they were moving targets. There was no way she could ever pay them back.

Sighing, she rolled over and placed her hand toward the glock for assurance. Maybe when everything was over and done, she could slip back into one of her identities so the team could forget about her and the nightmare she brought into their lives. And she could move on with hers.

But until then, she was Mrs. Abraham Abramowitz from Jerusalem. Fingering the gold band around her left ring finger, she took another look at her ex-partner and ex-friend before sleep took hold of her in its smothering grip.

_I wonder if any of Dave's ex wives had a honeymoon like this,_ was her last thought as she fell into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay, folks, something big is about to go down. For those familiar with my writing, you know that there are ALWAYS clues in my chapters to let you know what is going to happen later in the story. This one, and the ones before it, is no different._

Innocence Lost

Ian Doyle sat at the desk with the headphones and listened carefully while carefully scanning the video playing on the computer. He watched as a blonde woman approached David Rossi's room and slid something under the door.

Intently he watched as the hotel door was swung open and the woman was dragged inside. While the hallway stayed on the screen, he listened to the recording of what transpired in the room.

"_I - I don't understand…" the woman replied in a thick Russian accent._

"_What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Dave asked._

"_I thought this was my room."_

"_Then why did you slip an envelope under the door?"_

"_I don't know. I thought it was another room."_

"_I'm calling security." Dave returned._

"_No!" the woman yelped._

_Silence._

"_Who are you?" Dave demanded._

"_I'm no one; let me go!" _

"_Tell me what is in that envelope! Who are you? Who sent you?" Dave shouted._

"_Let. Me. Go!"_

Doyle smiled as he listened to the struggle. "So the infamous David Rossi isn't the proficient lover his reputation makes him out to be," he muttered sarcastically. Briefly the struggle continued before abruptly ending. His smile froze as he listened for any sign of life in the room - then the door closed. He watched as the woman looked both ways before sneaking down the hallway.

"Where did she go when she left?" Doyle asked.

The three men looked at one another. "We're not sure," Angus O'Sullivan replied hesitantly. "She didn't go thru the main lobby, so it's safe to say she snuck out the service elevator."

"I want those tapes!" Doyle thundered. "I want to find out who she is and what she was doing in David Rossi's bedroom!" Turning back to the computer, he scrutinized the screen frame by frame. There was some reason that woman had made a visit and if it wasn't for sex, then it was something else.

Clicking the mouse repeatedly, he played and rewound the video countless times. The sound in the room was deafening as the three men stood back and let their boss try to find the answers. Over and over, Doyle listened to the scuffle. Suddenly his head snapped up.

"Wait! What is that she does with her hair when she leaves?" he demanded. "What was that?"

"Where?" Clancy returned.

"This." Doyle unplugged the headphones. "Right here. She adjusts her hair… It's a wig!" Increasing the picture size, he studied it. As the realization of the woman's identity sunk in, Doyle found himself consumed by rage. Replaying the conversation, he listened as though his life depended on it.

"_Em…" Dave began before he was cut off._

"That fucking whore!" he shouted and threw his headphones across the room. "That lying, backstabbing whore!"

"What's wrong…?" Clancy inquired.

"Emily Prentiss is alive! That's what's wrong you stupid fucking Mick!" Doyle retorted. "She warned that Italian bastard that we were coming!"

"Boss…" Clancy began and was cut off.

"Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to be watching his every move. You were supposed to let me know that he was having visitors."

"Boss…" Clancy started again.

"We thought Emily Prentiss was dead," Angus added weakly. "Didn't you kill her?"

"Obviously, she isn't!" Doyle shouted, his face red with anger.

"She will be. You have my word on it," Bryan swore. "That bitch and her lover have breathed their last."

Before any of the men could register Doyle's next move, the loud sound of a gun report filled the room. In shocked silence, the two remaining men watched in horror as Angus fell to the ground - dead. His eyes stared unseeing at the room as blood trickled from his mouth and nose.

Doyle looked at the lifeless body and gave it a hard kick. Expressionless, he leveled his gaze at the two remaining men.

"That is your first and last warning. Failure is not an option. As for killing Emily Prentiss, that is my job. Your job is to start eliminating that rag tag bunch she referred to as her family."

"They are gone," Clancy spoke up. He had seen men get killed, but never like this - Angus had been his childhood friend. As the stench of gun powder and blood filled his nostrils, he repressed the urge to vomit.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" Doyle's tone was dark with warning.

"They got wind of what we were planning and everyone went into hiding. Derek Morgan's family is in witness protection and guarded by federal agents around the clock. Aaron Hotchner's son and ex sister in law are on a naval base somewhere in Virginia. Spencer Reid's mother has been relocated. And Jennifer Jareau's family is staying at one of the embassies in D.C."

"That bitch warned them! I am going to really kill her this time and when I do, I'm going to rip her fucking heart out and let her watch it beat its last before I choke the life out her!" Doyle raged. Stepping aside, he spat on it before giving it a disdained look. "Get that out of here."

Clancy and Bryan moved to lift Angus's body.

"When you get back," Doyle commanded, "I want you to contact McCaughey. I want to send a message to the team that I'm not fucking around." Walking to the bedroom, he slammed the door behind him.

Meanwhile, the two surviving members of his team worked to dispose of the corpse.  
******

Ashley Seaver held the receiver up to her left ear and leaned her elbows on the office desk. With her free hand she twirled a long lock of blonde hair around her index finger.

"Yes, Mom… I know that Grandma Irene's birthday is next week; I'm flying out to be there. No, I'm safe here in Utah. It's been cold, but I'm okay." She rolled her eyes as her mother responded. "Transfers are part of the job…one more year in the field and I can apply to the BAU permanently. On the other hand, I may stay here; I love the mountains. You need to come here to Salt Lake City…I know you can't leave Grandma. Maybe you can come out this summer. I'd love to show you around."

Ashley listened to her mother's reply. Nodding, she saw the other light on the phone light up.

"Mom, I need to go; I have another call coming in. I will call you tonight. I love you. Don't worry about me. I love you too." Switching the phone over, she paused before greeting the caller. "Agent Seaver."

"Ashley, it's Aaron Hotchner."

A smile lit up the young woman's face. "Hotch! How are you? How is Jack?"

"I'm well. Jack started second grade."

"I am so happy for him. I am going to have to send him something from Aunty Ash."

"He'll love it."

Ashley sat back in her chair. "How is the team? Missing me?" she teased.

"Actually, they are. Reid wants to know when you are coming back."

"Well…I am seriously considering staying here in Salt Lake."

"Really?" Hotch was surprised. "I thought you'd want to come back to the BAU."

"I do miss the team," Ashley admitted, "but I don't think I'm cut out to be a 'profiler'. I hope you understand."

"I do." Hotch paused. "The other reason for my call is to inform you that Doyle fled the States and is in Europe."

"When did you find out?"

"Two days ago." Hotch searched for the right words. She was the first of the team - aside from Dave - he told about Emily being alive. "Emily is alive."

Silence.

"I know," Ashley replied. "I've always known. You didn't submit your eval to Strauss," she reminded gently.

"You didn't say anything."

Ashley shrugged. "It wasn't my news to tell. I figure you haven't told the team yet."

"I was going to tell you first. There was a dossier that we recovered and you weren't listed, per se, but I want to cover all the bases. Doyle is going to want revenge when he realizes that Emily is alive and because he can't get to her or Rossi, he may lash out."

"My mother…" Ashley began, her heart raced with fear.

"Is safe. We are sending agents out to her," Hotch finished. "I am more concerned about you. I notified your director and you are going to have around the clock agents guarding you. One should be there later today to escort you home."

"Thank you."

"I wish you were coming back to Quantico."

"I love it out here. If I never went back east again, I wouldn't mind," she sighed.

"I'm happy for you."

"It's because of your transfer that I found heaven on earth. So, thank you. On a lighter note, I may come out in the summer to visit my mother before bring her back her for a vacation; tell Reid that I'll be taking him up on that offer to see the scary movie marathon at the bijou. And tell Rossi to brush up on his video skills; I've been practicing."

Hotch got an unexplainable lump in his throat. "I will do that. Notify me when your escort arrives."

"Yes sir," Ashley returned smartly with a salute. "Talk to you later."

"Bye, Ashley," Hotch replied.

"Bye, Hotch," she returned. Her ear still to the receiver, she waited for him to hang up. Replacing the phone, she turned to look at the picture of the BAU team on her desk and sighed.

"I'll be seeing you guys again real soon," she promised and turned to the folders on her desk.


	8. Chapter 8

_It's the moment of truth and now Hotch has to come clean with his team before he moves forward. And instead of pussy-footing around, he's going to start with Morgan. This is the first time I've ever written a full Hotch/Morgan dialogue chapter. Let me know how I did._

_**Innocence Lost**_

Hotch stood behind his desk as Morgan came into the spacious office. Gesturing toward the chair, he waited for the agent to sit and make himself comfortable.

Morgan watched the senior agent's body language and immediately his feelers went on high alert. Something was up and if he had to bet money on it, Rossi was knee deep in it and the whole team was about to experience the wrath of Erin Strauss.

Looking around the office, he tried to find one thing out of place that might indicate Hotch's feelings, but once again, the agent was stoic as ever. Crossing his ankle over his knee, Morgan flashed a benign smile.

"So, what is so important that we have had every type of law enforcement traipsing in and out of the Hoover Building the past two days?" Morgan asked lightly. "Strauss put a BOLO out on Rossi?"

Hotch sat down. Taking a deep breath, he tried not to let his emotions show. The fall out was going to be hard enough to deal with without losing control of the situation from the start.

"It's a little more serious than that."

"It's about Rossi," Morgan quipped. "Somehow I know he's involved in this."

"In a way he is," Hotch returned.

"What did he do now?"

"What do you know about the surveillance of Ian Doyle?" Hotch asked smoothly.

Morgan's eyebrow rose. "DHS is watching him around the clock. He's on a no fly list in five countries…"

"He's in Italy," Hotch returned simply.

It only took a moment for the words to sink in. Morgan jumped to his feet.

"He's what?"

"Morgan," Hotch cautioned, "you need to remain calm."

"Remain calm? That son of a bitch murdered my partner, destroyed this team, and God knows what else… Now you tell me that he some how slipped under the radar and escaped to Italy?" Morgan thundered, his voice shaking from anger and grief. "How the hell did that happen?"

"We are checking on that."

"Hotch, why didn't we just kill him when we had him in our radar? Why did DHS call off the assassination?"

"Morgan, I think you need to sit down."

"No, Hotch. I am not going to sit down. Tell me where he is and I'll kill that terrorist bastard with my bare hands."

"Morgan, there is something else I need to tell you…" Hotch began but was cut off.

"Is that why my family is in WITSEC? Is that why the security in this building has literally tripled over night?"

Hotch held the young agent's gaze. "It's a little more than Ian Doyle escaping." He gestured toward the chair again. "I need you to sit and listen carefully."

Morgan followed the order. "I'm listening, but this better be good."

"The reason for the heightened security is not because of Doyle…at least not in the way that it may appear. It's because of Emily."

Morgan paused. "Emily is dead; she's been dead for over a year now. Doyle would have no reason to continue to threaten us…"

"He's been watching us for a while and preparing to strike out the moment one of us crossed into his territory." Hotch waited.

Morgan furrowed his brow. "What do you mean by 'crossing into his territory'?"

"I sent Rossi on a sabbatical to get his head straight. He had been thinking about retiring, but I talked him out of it." Hotch waited one heartbeat. "He went to Italy…and Doyle followed him."

"I'm not following _you_."

"Doyle is intent on killing Rossi. And then the team."

"Why?"

"Emily is alive."

A flash of emotions crossed over Morgan's handsome face. Denial, anger, sorrow, and joy darkened then lightened his features as the words sank in. Jumping to his feet, he let out a primal growl of rage.

"SHE'S WHAT?"

"Emily is alive," Hotch repeated.

"Son of a bitch!" Morgan threw the chair across the room. "Is _that _why my family is in hiding? Is _that_ why everyone is on pins and needles? Is _that_ why you were the only person not to submit an eval?"

"We had our reasons for concealing Emily's existence," the unit chief defended.

"_We?_ Who else was in on this? Strauss?"

Hotch nodded. "Along with the FBI director and JJ."

"She _knew_? Is that why she was here?"

"Morgan, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Morgan bit out thru clenched teeth. "If I want to lose my temper and destroy the whole damn Hoover Building, then I think I'm owed that much!" Hotch remained silent. "I can't believe you did this to me! To the team! What were you thinking?"

"We were protecting you," Hotch replied in his calm eye of the storm way. "We needed to get Doyle to back off. Emily was badly injured and she did flat line on the operating table…we just forgot to tell you that she pulled thru."

"You _forgot_? No, Hotch, I forgot to send my mother a birthday card because I was busy tracking an UNSUB; what you did wasn't forgetting, it was deliberate deception." Morgan clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and prayed for strength. "You are supposed to be our team leader…our unit chief…and this is how you treat us? By lying and letting us walk around with broken hearts and guilty consciences and letting us beat ourselves up for not getting to her sooner?"

"Morgan, listen…"

"No, Hotch, _you_ listen," Morgan spat, "fuck you!"

"That is uncalled for," Hotch returned, a threat in his voice, his eyes blazing with anger.

"No, that was deserved. What you and JJ did to us was uncalled for." Morgan ran a hand over his head and tried to get himself under control. "How long?"

"What do you mean?"

"How long were you going to let us go on grieving?"

"As soon as Doyle was caught, we were going to try and bring Emily back to the team."

Morgan gave his unit chief a "you got to be shitting me" look. "And what did you expect us to do? Jump for joy? Throw a party? Forgive you?"

"We want you to understand that we did what we had to. Emily's life was in danger and Doyle was ready to kill each and every one of us and our families to get the information he needed to find his son. If he had to burn this building down to get it, he would have. We needed to throw him off his game long enough to keep an eye on him before we made our move."

"Before or after he slipped under the radar and made his way back to Europe?" Morgan paced the room. His hands clenched in and out of fists. "Where has Emily been? In Europe or here?"

"She's been in Europe. We arranged for her to get three separate identities and start over."

"And what then…? Give her a 'fare thee well' and send her out into the world with the possibility that Doyle might get a hint that she is alive? Then what?"

"She still has contacts within Interpol and they have been working with her and the CIA."

"Did they guess that the son of a bitch might just evade capture?"

Hotch nodded. "It had been in the profile we worked up."

"A profile that no one but you was privy to. How convenient. Did you forget that in the chain of command, I am directly below you and that I would have liked to have this information? Did you forget that there are other team members who have families that they love and care about and worry over their safety? Or were you too busy covering your ass and protecting _your_ family?"

"Morgan…" 

"No, Hotch. This isn't only about you and Jack. There are other players in this field. Other players who have just as much to lose - if not more - than you. I'm sorry about Haley, and I'm sorry that Jack is going to grow up without a mother, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life an orphan. And I don't want to lose my friends. And I sure as hell don't want to lose my life."

"Nothing is going to happen; we have insured that every measure is being taken so that if Doyle's team strikes, we will stop them with the first line of defense."

"What the fuck does that mean? That maybe - if we are luckier than Doyle's previous victims, who had security monitors and contacts - we _might_ be able to stop them before anything bad happens? Isn't that what you tried to do for Haley? Isn't it? And look how well that turned out!" Morgan shouted.

Morgan spun around to face the door. Silently, his shoulders shook for a minute. Hotch watched the agent with a mixture of understanding and contempt.

"I told Rossi that Emily was hiding something from us, but he had to take her side and act like she was doing what she could to protect us. All she had to do was come clean and we could have gotten this son of a bitch before he started wiping out families by the truck load. But no. She had to keep it inside and act like she was the only fucking agent in the world with a deep, dark secret."

"It wouldn't have mattered if she had told us about Doyle. He was already working on eliminating people to work his way up to her."

"Exactly!" Morgan spat as he spun around. Tear tracks ran down his cheeks but he didn't try to hide them. "If she had just said the word, we could have done something to save those people and save her. But she had to play Rambo and do this all by herself. What's going to happen when Doyle catches up with her and Rossi? Is she going to protect him like she tried to protect herself?"

"They made it to Cannes and JJ sent them new passports. They should be arriving in London by Wednesday."

"But until then, they are free in the wind," Morgan stated angrily.

"Once they get to London, they will go to the embassy and Interpol is going to work on getting them home."

Neither man spoke as the heavy silence permeated the room. Steeling their gaze at one another, each dared the other to speak first.

"Is Emily ready to take it on?" Morgan asked.

"Ready to take on what?" Hotch leveled back.

"All the hell that is going to erupt when everyone finds out that she is alive and you've been deceiving us."

Donning his prosecutor like demeanor, Hotch tried not to let his feelings show. Morgan was right, but now was not the time to lose control over the situation. Lives were at stake and two of his agents were in more danger than even he could fathom. He could handle hell breaking loose once his team was back together.

"We will deal with that when it happens."

Morgan's lips twitched. "Are we done?"

"Yes. You may leave. I request that you not say anything to Garcia and Reid when you leave here."

"Are you crazy? Say anything? I can't begin to form a coherent thought - much less find the words to describe the last twenty minutes. Trust me, your secret is safe with me." Morgan marched to the door, yanked it open. Before leaving, he turned to face the man he had once trusted with his life and the lives of his family and friends.

"Once more thing. When something happens - and not if - it's going to be on yours and Emily's conscience. And I hope it kicks your ass!" Storming out, he slammed the door behind him.

Hotch rubbed a hand over his weary features. "That's what I'm afraid of," he spoke out loud to the empty room.


	9. Chapter 9

_This chapter is a very unique one in that for the first time since I started writing, I needed a beta to look things over and make sure everything was done properly. Since it is set in merry old England, I wanted to make sure every detail was exact and correct. So, I am going to have to give a big "Yank" holler to Michaela who probably wants to strangle me for asking 1,000 questions about England, roads, and directions, and everything else in between - before finally telling me: "Google it, okay?". THEN, I asked her to beta! If she hasn't lost her mind by now, well…I haven't gotten to the good part yet!_

_Dedicated to Michaela…Love you, baby girl!_

**Innocence Lost**

Em maneuvered the Fiat thru English customs in Dover down the long road and pulled over to the side. Turning off the engine, she reached over to the glove box.

"What are you doing?" Dave asked cautiously.

Em pulled out the map and sat back in the uncomfortable seat. Unfolding the paper, she studied the route. "I figure we lost some time being stuck in customs for six hours. Chances are that Doyle is about to figure out or has figured out that you weren't on the plane and who I am. We are going to have to change our route to get to London without being seen."

"How far is Dover from London?"

Em shrugged and scrutinized the map. "Roughly eighty miles…give or take. There are two routes to London from here and I am sure that Doyle's men are going to take both to find us." Biting her lip, she traced the route. Muttering under her breath, she rerouted their distance.

"Mind letting me in on the plan?" Dave spoke up.

"I'm sorry?"

"The plan to get us out of here alive. Or do you have one?"

Sighing heavily, Em lowered the paper to look at the man she had some how inadvertently involved into the chaos called her life.

"I have many plans, but none of them included a second person. When we get to London, Interpol and the embassy is going to get you out of there and back to the States."

"But not you," Dave stated flatly.

"I have a job to do." Em's finger traced one route, then another. Her brow furrowed with each possibility.

"Your job was at the BAU before you decided to make this about you."

"It is about me!" she flamed back.

"No, Emily, it's about everyone. Everyone who knows you is now neck deep in this terrorist's plot to wipe you out for stealing his son."

Em closed her eyes and tried to ward off her anger. Dave was right, but fighting about it was not going to get them any where.

"I didn't steal his son. And even if I did, I had my reasons."

"Like your reasons for leaving us high and dry while people were dropping like flies all around DC?"

"Yes." She wrung her hands nervously.

"Would care to share them with me? Or are you still going to pretend that you are a lone crusader in this horrible spy/terrorist clichéd plot gone horrible wrong?" Dave angrily retorted. "I defended you when Morgan wanted to hunt you down and get answers to why you were deceiving us by not revealing everything. I told him that you were doing so to protect us."

"I was…" Em replied weakly. Subconsciously, she began picking at her cuticles.

"You aren't protecting us now! We are here with Doyle closing in on our asses, and his team of thugs and hit men over in Quantico closing in on my friends." His voice shook with bridled anger.

"Our friends," she corrected.

Dave raised an eyebrow at her statement. "_Our_? That's pushing it. You haven't seen anyone in over a year; you don't know what is happening in any of their lives. They aren't _'our team'_, they are _my_ team. I have grieved with them, held their hands, and comforted them when I had no words for myself. I have been there while you and Hotch deceived us into thinking that Doyle had killed you."

"Dave…"

"I don't normally get angry, but I can't help but wonder what the hell you were thinking. Did you think of anyone but yourself before you launched this plot?"

Folding up the map haphazardly, Em felt her temper boil over. "Listen to me, you anal retentive son of a bitch! I did what I had to do to insure the safety of the people I love! It wasn't something I wanted to do, but something I had to! Doyle was going to kill you all! Then he was going to kill me! With all of you dead, who was going to save me?"

The tension in the car rose. The air snapped with electricity.

"I had a job to do, and dammit, I would do it again if push came to shove. I don't care what you or Morgan thinks about the choices I made. You don't know what I've gone thru or what I have gone thru this past year." Throwing the map back in the glove box, she slammed the door and then started the engine. "You don't have to like me and the choices I made…just like I don't have to like you for the choices you made, but we are in this together. Once I get you to your final destination, you can get on that plane and pretend that I never existed."

"What happens when Doyle decides to strike out?" Dave countered.

"Doyle is going to try and hurt the team where they are most vulnerable."

"Are my ex-wives in danger?" It was more of a curiosity tone than one of concern.

"Do they have any significance in your life?"

Dave cocked his head. "Other than drains on my bank account once a month? No."

"Then they are safe. Doyle is going to go after people who mean something to the team. Like Father Jimmy."

"He is out of town for the next month in Prague."

"I know. He's safe. I already checked. The Church keeps the travel records of their priests very confidential."

"Thank you." He fought the urge to wipe the sweat off his brow.

"Don't thank me; JJ did all the investigative work. She is doing everything she can on that end to make sure I catch Doyle."

"Don't you mean 'we'?" Dave replied with barely concealed anger.

"No, I mean 'I'. You are not going to get involved with this. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. This is my fight."

"Babe, I hate to inform you, but I am involved. Seven ways to Sunday I'm knee deep in this shit. The faster you stop making this about you, the faster we can end this."

Slowly the sun began to set and darkness fell over the area.

Biting her tongue, Em pressed the clutch in and shifted into first. Guiding the car onto the M20, she watched the traffic as the miles slipped by. Heading toward a sign, she took an immediate left onto Ashford road. The landscape flew by as she tried to keep her emotions under wraps. She had always loved the beautiful English countryside, but not now. There was no time to enjoy the lavish scenery and take a tour of the fields that had captured her heart all those years ago when she was young and stupid and thought life when on forever.

"I thought we were going to London," Dave commented, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

"We are," she snapped. "Doyle's men are going to presume that we are taking the M20 or the M2 to get there; we have to throw them off."

"Do we have enough gas?" he remarked.

"There is a station outside of Cranbrook; we can fill up there. Then I'll call JJ and let her know you are on your way."

"You said it again." Dave watched the velvet sky get littered with bright small stars. "Any chance we can get something to eat?"

Em turned on the headlights. "We'll get a place to stay when we get to Tunbridge Wells and start fresh in the morning."

Silence.

"Have you thought of the consequences?" Dave wondered a loud.

"In regard to…" Em prompted.

"Doyle finding out that you are alive?"

"He wants you. Plain and simple. Without your death, he won't move on to anyone else. If he can't move on, he can't get to me. He wants me to watch him destroy my family one by one."

"You're sure about that?"

Em gave a slight nod. "I've known him for six years. I studied him and made the profile for Interpol and the CIA. He doesn't divert from his script."

"You're sure about that?"

"I would bet my life on it."

"You might have to."

Shifting the engine, Em pushed on into the darkness. "I just hope it doesn't come down to that," she muttered.

Dave looked at her with an indescribable expression, but remained silent.


	10. Chapter 10

_**I know this update was quick, but I**__**'ve learned that when Garcia speaks, it's just better to go along and write it down. Also, I'm starting another shift at work so my postings may be sporadic. So, I'm hoping this tides you over until I can get back on line. **_

**Innocence Lost**

Typing furiously, Ashley was completely engrossed in the report she was finishing when a pair of legs approached her desk.

"Agent Seaver?" the man asked.

Startled, Ashley spun around in her chair. "I'm sorry," she gasped, her hand covering her heart. "You startled me! I wasn't expecting any one."

The handsome agent grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry." He flashed his credentials. "I'm Agent Sheen. I was sent by the higher ups to escort you home."

Ashley stood up and shook his hand. "I'm so glad to meet you. Agent Hotchner said that you would be arriving. I wasn't expecting you for a couple of more hours."

"There was a break in the storm and headquarters thought it might be best if we got on the road before the next blizzard hit."

"I understand that," Ashley empathized. "I still can't get used to how quickly they spring up here. Someone said it has to do with the altitude and desert."

"Well, I'm from Chicago and I'm used to storms. Director Harrington said that you were going to need around the clock security?" Agent Sheen asked.

"Yes." She took her seat and hit control space to darken her screen.

"May I ask why?"

"They didn't tell you?" Ashley tried to size him up.

Agent Sheen shrugged. "I'm still a probie and they don't really tell me anything but where to go and what to do when I get there."

Ashley chuckled. "I know exactly how you feel."

"So, are you ready? To leave?" he amended quickly.

"I just have to finish up this report and submit it to the chief; then we can go."

"I'll go get a cup of coffee."

"Okay. Do you know where the kitchen is?" she asked brightly.

He flashed her a dazzling smile. "I'll find it. Want some?"

"Not right now. Maybe later."

"See you in a few." Turning on his heel, Agent Sheen made his way across the office. Ashley hit the control key and pulled up her report. She was almost finished and when she submitted it, it was going to be the most perfect report. She'd bet her life on it.  
*****

"What are you saying?" Penelope Garcia whispered. The air had suddenly been sucked out of the room upon Hotch's declaration that her sister was not dead.

"Emily is alive."

"You mean alive like…breathing, smiling, full cardio rhythm…?" Her eyes welled up with tears as her heart began to beat so fast she thought it was going to jump out of her chest.

Hotch nodded. "Yes."

"My darling precious sister has been alive this whole time and you were lying to us?" The realization was dawning on her and it was suddenly too much to take in.

"Garcia…"

"No!" She held up a neon painted finger tipped hand. "You lied to me?"

"We had to."

"I'm not asking a 'we' question; I'm asking a 'you' question. You demand the truth and honesty from every single member of this team. Your code is that we tell the truth so there is no doubt about the person having your back. And you of all people lied to us?"

Hotch nodded. "Yes." He paused. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Garcia's eyes blazed hot. "For what it's worth, Hotch…and pardon my French here, but bite my hard drive! Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep wondering what I could have done differently? Do you know how many times I retraced all of my activities that day hoping that there wasn't something that I missed that would have helped us locate Emily faster? No! You don't!"

"Garcia…"

"I'm not finished with you yet, buster!" Garcia pushed herself to her feet and paced the room. She tried not to focus on grabbing the hard drive and beating her boss to death.

Sensing the underlying threat, Hotch maintained his silence. What she was saying bordered on insubordination, but if she got it off her chest and returned to her job to help capture Doyle, then he could handle what she had to say. Though, logically, he knew that he deserved everything coming his way. And more.

"I'm happy that Emily is alive. I would break out in a dance, but I'm not that excited by your news. I cried buckets of tears. I wept at her funeral. I prayed to a god I swore didn't exist hoping that he did so that I could be granted one more chance to see my angel face." Tears rolled down Garcia's cheeks fast and hot. "I hate you."

"I understand."

"No, I don't think you do. I really hate you. You lied to me. I'm the person who stood behind you and kept Strauss off your back…and you deceived me worse than Kevin did. You deceived me worse than Elle did. I hate Emily too, but you and JJ were in cahoots on this one."

"Are you done?"

"Almost. Were you ever going to tell us?" Garcia asked, her eyes searched his.

"Maybe. Someday. When Doyle had been caught, we were going to try and bring Emily back to the BAU."

"But what if Doyle had gotten hold of Emily and killed her over in Europe? How would you have brought her back? What would you have told us?" she asked. His silence spoke volumes. "You wouldn't have."

Hotch tried to find a response, but came up empty.

"We are supposed to be a family," she continued in a rushed stream of words. "We are supposed to be there for one another through all the good and bad…and guys like Ian Doyle. It doesn't matter if the ends justify the means because I could wipe Ian Doyle off the face of the earth with one key stroke. On the other hand, I wish you had told me about your plan for Emily because I could have done the same but at least I could have slept easier at night. But she would still be alive and I would know it."

"Doyle would have killed all of us without blinking if he had even hinted that Emily was alive. He had look outs monitoring us for weeks afterward waiting to see if we slipped up."

"All you had to do was say the word and I would have…"

Hotch placed a finger over her lips to shush her. "No you couldn't have; he knew everything about us, and he would have taken us out in one fell swoop that would have made the bombing in New York look like child's play."

"I…"

"He would have killed Jack and Henry, too. A son for a son.

Her eyes widened then her shoulders shook with sobs. Hotch held her tight in his arms.

"Garcia, are you alright?" he asked, concern was in his voice.

"No. Yes. My sister is alive. I'm going to be able to hold her again and put her back in my top eight," her voice trembled with emotion.

"Are you done now?" Hotch asked carefully.

"Yes."

"Good, because I am going to need you to do everything you can to make sure she and Rossi get back here alive and we catch Doyle."

"Okay, Boss. But there is still one more thing…"

"What?" Hotch prompted.

"I still hate you."

"I'm used to it," he replied and continued to hold her in his arms until her tears were gone.


	11. Chapter 11

_A quick note to inform my readers that I am quickly closing in on my 100__th__story! I have put up a poll on my profile page to vote on the pairing and prompt you would like to see for that milestone. PLEASE don't vote on the review page of my stories as it would mean that I will have to take chapters down to erase all comments, and that wouldn't be fair to people who have left reviews - since any votes made in the review section will __**NOT**__ be counted toward the final tally. Thanks!_

_Now on to the chapter synopsis…Hotch has one last member of the team to inform about Emily, and is about to get a surprise of his own. Meanwhile, the fates are against Em and Dave making it back to the States. Will they be able to meet halfway?_

**Innocence Lost**

Reid sat upright in the chair and stared at Hotch in thoughtful silence. Never had a moment seemed as long as both men profiled the other for their reaction.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Hotch prompted. After the verbal outburst from Morgan and the flood of tearful emotion from Garcia, he had been braced for anything the young doctor might say or do…except this.

Reid considered the question and shrugged. A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips.

"I already knew," he replied matter of fact.

Hotch tried to keep the surprise off his face. "How?"

"Initially, I believed that Emily was dead, but as I thought about it and began putting the pieces together, I found that nothing added up." Reid templed his fingers and pressed them to his lips.

"Like…what, exactly?" Hotch asked in a hesitant tone.

"Well, for one: only you and JJ got to see her body."

"There was no need for the rest of the team to see her," Hotch replied.

"True," Reid agreed, "but with all that we had been thru, we might have wanted to say 'good-bye'. Second, there was no open casket, and Emily's mother and Director Strauss were not present. I know that Emily and Ambassador Prentiss didn't have the warmest of relationships, but a mother would want to say good-bye to her daughter. No amount of animosity would have kept the director from paying her final respects to a fallen agent. In fact, we were the only ones there…aside from the priest."

Hotch tried to find the words to dispute Reid's observations, but came up empty.

"Third…and maybe this was just an assumption on my part, but I clearly remember Emily mentioning that she never wanted a 'funeral' and 'viewing' because she didn't want to be made up and put on display." Reid paused. "She wanted to be cremated. She told me that."

"She never told me."

"It was a private conversation between her and me during a case. None of the others would have been privy to it."

"It wasn't in her personnel record or in her Last Will and Testament."

Reid shrugged again. "Maybe she forgot to update. Or maybe it was overlooked. On the other hand, Doyle wouldn't have known, so it wouldn't have mattered."

Hotch digested the younger agents observations. He had been so close to making this thing work, and then one wrong move on the part of someone who hadn't known the truth had started the snowball fast and furious downhill. How had the others not pieced the clues together? Was it luck or something else?

"I didn't fool you."

"I have an eidetic memory, Hotch."

"I know."

"So, what happens now? With us? The team?"

Hotch shook his head. "We are doing everything we can to insure the safety of your mother, Morgan's family, and Henry."

"Doyle won't stop with that. We saw what he did with people he felt betrayed him…" Reid trailed off. "Emily and Rossi are in danger."

"Right now, they are off the radar, so Doyle can't trace them," Hotch assured the agent. Or was he reassuring himself? He tried not to show that he was nervous, but flashbacks to Haley jumped in his brain. Involuntarily, he felt himself break out in a cold sweat.

"I know that this is reminding you of Haley and Jack," Reid commented softly.

"Reid…"

The young agent tried to force a smile, but failed. "We are going to get them home."

Hotch swallowed hard. "Thank you."

"So, what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Our families are being protected in undisclosed locations, Emily and Rossi are no where to be found until they contact us, and Doyle is overseas. I am not sure, but until something happens, our hands are tied."

Hotch nodded. "You couldn't be more right."

Reid thinned his lips as he considered everything that had been revealed. "That still doesn't answer my last question."

"Which is…?" Hotch prompted.

Reid tried to quell the nervous feeling that rushed thru his body. "What do we do now?"

Hotch held the man's gaze for a long minute. The clock on the shelf made an eerie ticking sound to fill the silent room.

"We wait."  
****

"What do you mean we ran out of gas?" Dave asked. He shot his partner a 'you have to be kidding me!' look.

Em turned the key and tried the engine. The car shuddered and shook, but didn't turn over. Switching off the engine, she leaned back against the backrest.

"I mean that we are out of gas."

"What about the station you said was on the map?"

"I didn't see it. It's possible that we made a wrong turn. Or it closed down."

"How convenient."

Em shot him a weary look. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"That on top of everything else, we run out of gas in the middle of nowhere."

"Well, the good news is that if we don't know where we are, Doyle's men aren't going to know either. That gives us a little more time to form a plan."

"The way I look at it, Emily, all the plans we've tried are meeting one catastrophic ending after another. So unless you have a magical plan for getting us out of here, then I think we are officially fucked." Dave got out of the car and slammed the door hard.

Not waiting to catch her breath, Em got out and confronted him. "Listen here," she confronted him, her tone harsh, "I saved your ass twice already! I risked my life to make sure Doyle wouldn't make you his latest victim."

"What do you want?" Dave sneered. "A thank you?"

Em's eyes narrowed. "No. Just a little appreciation. I'm doing everything I can to make sure that you remain alive until you get back to DC."

"So far, so good." There was no missing the sarcasm in Dave's voice.

"Cut the crap, Dave. We need to work together."

Dave gave a dark laugh at her remark. "Like a team? If I remember correctly, you aren't part of a 'team' anymore. You gave that up when you faked your death and abandoned the BAU."

"I had no choice! Doyle was going to kill all of you!" Em yelled. "You thought the New York bombing was bad?" she asked rhetorically. "That was nothing compared to what he had planned to get to me if his methods fell through."

Dave continued to glare at her. He didn't trust himself to speak.

"Hotch didn't tell you?" Em asked.

"Hotch didn't tell me a goddamn thing!" Dave bit out. I was conveniently left out of the loop!"

"Doyle was going to blow up the BAU jet with everyone on board." She let him digest the information. "Then he was going to kill Henry and Jack slowly and painfully….after they watched Doyle torture and kill JJ."

Dave tried to reply, but couldn't find the words. A part of him didn't want to believe what Em told him, but he had seen - with his own eyes - the carnage and destruction Ian Doyle had left behind; his calling cards to let Em and the team know that there was no running. No hiding. A son for a son.

"I didn't want to say good-bye. I didn't want to leave the only real family I had ever known. I wish I had been dead, then I wouldn't have had to put the team through all of this hell." Em felt her voice choke with tears.

Silently, Dave watched the sun continue to set over the soft hillside.

"We should find somewhere to stay for the night," he offered. Opening the car door, he grabbed his go bag. "Come on," he ordered quietly. He could handle the betrayal and anger, but he had to get away from the tears.

Grabbing her bag, Em hurried to catch up. Silently, they walked side by side down the deserted road.


	12. Chapter 12

_A quick note to inform my readers that I am quickly closing in on my 100__th__story! I have put up a poll on my profile page to vote on the pairing and prompt you would like to see for that milestone. PLEASE don't vote on the review page of my stories as it would mean that I will have to take chapters down to erase all comments, and that wouldn't be fair to people who have left reviews - since any votes made in the review section will __**NOT**__ be counted toward the final tally. Thanks!_

_Doyle will not be diverted from his plan to exact revenge on Emily and the BAU. Since he can't get Dave, he is going to go after the next person on his list. After all, as far as he is concerned, it's war._

**Innocence Lost**

"Where are we going?" Ashley asked the handsome agent sitting behind the steering wheel.

Agent Sheen turned his head to look at her. "I've been ordered to escort you to a safe house outside of Logan," he replied with a wide smile.

"They didn't tell me anything about a transfer."

"It was last minute; they wanted it a secret so you couldn't tell anyone incase your cover is compromised."

Ashley felt a nervous feeling gnaw at the pit of her stomach. Something he said wasn't sitting right, but maybe it was her imagination working over time. After all, he _was_ a fellow agent and he _had_ been assigned to protect her. Turning away, she looked out the passenger window at the passing landscape. _The forgotten desert_, she thought to herself as she looked at the semi barren land and the majestic mountains that rose above it in the distance. She drank in the majestic beauty she had fallen in love with. It was official: she never wanted to leave.

"How long have you lived here?" Sheen asked casually.

Ashley brought herself back to the present. "I'm sorry?"

"Here. How long have you live in Utah?"

"Almost six months. I was in DC for about eight months before I transferred. What about you?" she asked.

"I just graduated the academy less than a year ago and instead of sending me to my first assignment, they put me on 'guard' detail."

Ashley lightly grimaced. "Sorry."

Sheen shrugged. "No need to be sorry; you are prettier than I thought you would be." He watched as Ashley blushed lightly. "I mean it."

"Thanks." She tried to brush him off.

"Out of curiosity, why did you become an agent?" he asked while carefully changing lanes to pass another car.

Ashley looked thoughtful. "I guess the same reason any one wants to get into law enforcement; I wanted to make a difference." She nervously wrung her hands together and looked out the window again. "My father was…" she paused to find the right words. "My father was not a…good man. I mean, he was an okay father, but when it came to his real life, he was…"

"A serial killer," Sheen finished.

Ashley turned her head sharply to look at the fellow agent. "How did you know?" she asked slowly, her heart beating so fast she thought it could beat the car in a race.

"I have to admit that I did my own investigation work when I found out that I was going to be guarding you. I hope you don't mind."

"I…I don't know. It's a little unsettling. I try to keep that part of my life a secret."

"So, you joined the FBI?" Sheen wondered a loud.

"I had to prove that more than genetics determine the direction a person's life takes. And I wanted to prove to him that I was better."

"I've seen your file; you are a good agent."

"I've had my share of mistakes," she argued with a slight chuckle.

"We all have." He guided the car back into the right hand lane. "So, what do you know about Ian Doyle?" he asked nonchalantly.

"He murdered my friend in cold blood." Ashley's eyes filled with tears as she remembered the funeral for Emily.

"Do you know where he is now?"

"I think he fled to Europe. Hotch told me that's the reason he's giving me an escort and guard. I guess Doyle isn't finished with us."

Sheen looked surprised. "Hotch? Aaron Hotchner? You know him?"

"In a way," Ashley admitted. "I spent some time in the BAU. Do _you_ know him?"

"_Everyone _knows Aaron Hotchner! He literally killed a man with his bare hands! He's infamous in the FBI and outside, too," Sheen gushed and looked out the rearview mirror. "I heard he's a cold blooded son of a bitch."

Ashley felt her anger begin to boil at the insult toward her former boss. "He's been thru a lot. But he's a great guy and a great leader. I owe him everything I have."

"Hey, I meant no disrespect; I was just relaying the scuttlebutt around the FBI."

Ashley turned on the radio to prevent any further discussion. Quietly, she looked out the window again as the sun began to set.

"Oh no!" she muttered and gave herself a mental kick.

"What's wrong?" Sheen inquired.

"I forgot to call Hotch and tell him that you stopped by to pick me up. I got distracted with those last few folders." She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. Flipping it open, she pressed a number.

Suddenly the car jolted hard as she was flung forward. The cell flew from her hand and hit the windshield.

"What was that?" she gasped.

"I don't know; hold on." Sheen grasped the steering wheel and swerved hard to the right. Another hit from behind caused both occupants to lose their equilibrium.

"What's happening?" Ashley cried out as she tried to quell the rising panic. Quickly she looked around for any other cars on the road but she was blinded by the bright headlights filling the interior of the SUV. Twice more the SUV was hit - once from behind and from the side - while she wondered what she could be doing to help.

Before she could ask a question, the SUV went off the side of the road and hit a hard bump, then a ditch. Holding on to the door handle, she pressed herself against the seat. Abruptly the SUV hit another ditch, flinging her forward. Unexpectedly, she hit the windshield, then the dashboard. She felt the blood rush from her forehead.

Dazed and confused, she felt the world spin counterclockwise as her stomach roiled. While stars danced in front of her eyes, she blindly reached for the door handle but came up empty. Opening her eyes slightly, she looked at the man beside her.

"Are…are you…alright?" Ashley whispered.

Ignoring her, Sheen opened the door and jumped out. She tried to call out to him, but the words escaped her. Weakly, her fingers fumbled for the seatbelt latch, but missed. The stars continued to dance and darkness loomed.

"I think I broke my nose," she whispered to herself. "My mom is going to be so mad." Her head slumped forward.

Angrily, Sheen approached the other driver. "What the hell do you think you were doing?" he shouted.

"Doyle wanted to keep it realistic," the other man replied as he walked over to where the SUV sat.

"You were supposed to make it look like an accident! You almost killed me, you stupid fuck!" Sheen shouted and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "See, I'm bleeding!"

"Aww," the other man sardonically replied, "it's just collateral damage. Where is the woman?" Looking at the vehicle, he pulled out his weapon.

"In the front seat. Just shoot her and get it over with so we can get the fuck out of here. I think I need a doctor."

"No. No doctors. That was Doyle's orders."

"What do you mean?" Sheen asked.

"Just what he said." Leveling his weapon, the unidentified man pulled the trigger. As the bullet hit his target, he watched Sheen's body hit the hard, red clay ground. Standing over the prone figure, he aimed again and pulled the trigger.

Wordlessly, he stepped over to where Ashley sat motionless. Yanking the passenger door open, he leveled the gun and fired point blank at her head.

As the rapport echoed and faded into the desert evening, he threw a card down on Ashley's lap. Then he turned around, got in his car, and drove off.


	13. Chapter 13

_Ashley has been shot. Now all hell is about to break loose! One stupid move on the part of one of Doyle's men is going to start the snowball rolling at a high rate of speed! Please forgive me, but I have never been in a police shoot out, so for the sake of this story, I am taking a __**huge**__ literary license._

_For the record here is what the law enforcement codes mean: 936 is a Stolen Vehicle Inquiry. A 937 is a Suspicious Persons Inquiry. A 939 is Wanted Use Caution. A 10-11 is Send Backup. And a 10-23 is Standby._

**Innocence Lost**

Gathering up his briefcase, Hotch turned off his desk lamp. Glancing at his watch, he mentally calculated the time. If he hurried, he could still call Jack before he went to bed. He should just be getting back from Jessica taking him to the movies. There was a new Disney movie out about talking Cars - not that the prospect of cartoons really thrilled him - but he'd give anything to be sitting in that theatre with his son.

"Just remember that it's the quality, not the quantity," he muttered to himself. Still, just the thought of Jack growing up to be an UNSUB didn't particularly thrill him. It was times like this he wished Haley was alive to help him figure things out.

Turning around, he walked toward the door when the sound of the phone stopped him cold. Hurrying over to the desk, he picked up the receiver. Whoever was on the other end was not delivering good news.

"Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner," he replied cautiously.

"Agent Hotchner, this is Director Levi Stubbs at the Salt Lake Headquarters."

"How can I help you?" Hotch asked.

"We have a situation here. We cannot locate Agent Seaver."

Hotch went rigid. "Where is she?"

"I was hoping you might be able to tell me. We traced her phone list to the last number she called, and your number appeared. What did you talk about?"

"I warned her about Ian Doyle and that we were assigning her a protection detail. She was supposed to come to you for everything."

"Obviously, the communication line broke down because she isn't here," Director Stubbs replied angrily. Hotch braced himself for the worst. "I read in her file that she once wandered off without notifying you."

"That was an honest mistake," Hotch defended. No matter what, he was still loyal to his team members.

"I want to think that she just didn't wander off."

"I have first hand knowledge of Ian Doyle, and I know that he will stoop to any level to make sure he gets what he wants." Hotch tried to control his anger.

"I read the file you sent me," Stubbs said, "why didn't you warn me?"

"There was no need to warn you other than what we had at the time. Doyle had left the country and Interpol was looking for him, but we didn't consider him a threat." _Until Dave crossed paths with Em in Italy,_ he finished silently.

Stubbs paused for a long moment. "I don't know how you run things out in Quantico, but here in Salt Lake, we want _all_ the information about any terrorists that might be after our agents."

"I apologize for the miscommunication," Hotch began but was interrupted.

"I don't give a shit about your apologies; I want my agent back."

Hotch closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Can you tell if she took her personal items with her?"

"As far as I can tell, she took them. Why?" Stubbs voice held a bit of sarcasm.

"I have a computer tech here who can locate Agent Seaver in a matter of minutes if you will bear with me."

Stubbs hesitated. His agent was gone and now he was being told that a wanted terrorist was targeting certain FBI agents connected to the BAU.

"If you think that this is the only way we can find her, then go ahead. Right now I have a BOLO issued."

"What should we do if we catch the guy?" Stubbs asked.

"He won't be taken alive. He has done what he was sent to do. Even if you capture him, he will find a way to make sure you cannot interrogate him. Chances are that he will try to take as many of you with him as he can. I can tell you that no matter what happens, it's going to end in bloodshed," Hotch finished.

"Well, he can't get very far since there is only one major highway in and out of Utah. We're going to catch this son of a bitch," Stubbs ground out through clenched teeth.

"I understand."

A moment of silence stretched between the men.

"I want my agent back," Stubbs stated.

"We will get her back. Call me as soon as you hear anything," Hotch replied. The line went dead. Quickly he dialed a number. "This is Agent Hotchner. I need a call back for Agents Morgan, Garcia, and Reid. And one for Director Strauss. Thank you." Hanging up, he pushed a number on his cell phone.

"Jennifer Jareau," the voice greeted.

"JJ, this is Hotch. We have a problem; Doyle has gotten to Ashley."

"Have you called Emily?" JJ asked quietly.

"Director Stubbs called me to report that she is missing. She took her cell phone and purse."

"Is Garcia on it?"

"I just did a call back."

"If anyone can find Ashley, it will be Pen."

"I told Director Stubbs not to contact the media should they find Seaver," Hotch remarked. He ran a hand over his forehead wearily.

"Smart move."

"And that when they capture this guy, he is going to do suicide by cop." Hotch paused before speaking. "Doyle has begun his revenge."

"We knew this was going to happen if he ever got wind that Emily was alive," JJ replied.

"I know. I didn't think he was going to go after Ashley."

"He can't get to Dave or our families, so he was going to hit the most vulnerable."

"Speaking of families," Hotch said, "where is Henry?"

"In the last place you would expect," JJ replied enigmatically.

He nodded. "Good."

"Jack is okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. Call me when you hear something, okay," JJ asked.

"You'll be the first one."

"Thanks Hotch."  
********

The car sped down the highway as the driver looked in his rearview mirror at the flashing lights. His hands gripped the steering wheel. He had hoped to get out of Utah in a timely manner, but one wrong turn had quashed that plan.

Maybe the U Turn in the middle of the highway hadn't been his wisest of plans, but he wasn't worried. He had called Doyle and let him know that Phase I had been carried out. And that was all that mattered. Now everything else could commence. And for that he was willing to sacrifice his life.

He pressed the gas to the floor and held it.

The state trooper who had seen the U Turn turned on his lights and siren and began the chase. The scenery sped by as the cars flew down the highway.

"Dispatch, be advised that I am pursuit of a 937 for a possible 936. Suspect is currently heading south on the 15," the state trooper spoke calmly into his radio.

"Will you be requiring a 939?" dispatch asked.

"10-4. Along with a 10-11."

"10-4. 10-23."

A long moment of silence came over the radio.

"Be advised that road blocks have been put up outside the next exit," dispatch replied.

The state trooper watched as the car weaved in and around the scant traffic. The moron was just stupid enough to kill innocent people before they could stop him. Maybe he was drunk or having a seizure, but that wasn't his job to determine; his job was to protect the innocent.

"10-4, dispatch."

The state trooper tried to concentrate as radio activity continued about finding two shooting victims Outside of Logan.

"Dispatch, this may be the suspect I am following," the trooper said back to the handset.

"10-4. Be advised that he may be armed and dangerous."

"If he is, we need to catch him now." The trooper swerved to avoid the car that stopped in the middle of the highway. Pressing the gas pedal, he rushed to continue the pursuit. "Are the spike strips set?" he asked.

"Spike strips are set."

"I am back off right now."

"10-4."

Slowing up just a fraction, the trooper watched as the speeding car hit the spikes. Then the moment that had sped by went into slow motion.

Stalled with four flat tires, the UNSUB jumped from the car before the rest of the state troopers and police could arrive. Reaching into the front seat, he pulled out an automatic weapon and began firing.

The other vehicles came to an abrupt halt as the LEOs took cover from the bullets that hit the windshields and exteriors. Shouts of "take cover" filled the air as many member tried to find a spot to take aim.

Indiscriminately the bullets flew at the troopers as the UNSUB continued to pull the trigger. It was obvious to everyone there that he had nothing to lose; it was up to them to make sure he didn't take out anyone who did have something to lose.

"Do you have him in your sights?" one officer's voice came over the ear pieces.

"I do," another officer replied.

"Take the shot."

Aiming his service revolver, the trooper paused for half a second, then pulled the trigger. The impact of the bullet and the target hitting the ground was over before the sound of the gun fire had died away.

Advancing on the motionless shooter, the LEOs approached slowly - their weapons still drawn. One officer kicked the automatic weapon away with his foot as he looked down. The bullet had hit the shooter in the head. It was over.

Securing the crime scene, the body was guarded while investigators combed through the disabled vehicle.

"Hey! I think I found something," one investigator shouted. Holding up the small notebook, the others crowded around him. "It's a list of people."

"It's 'targets'," another corrected. He took the notebook and read silently. "These names sound familiar."

"Do you think he had anything to do with that shooting earlier?"

The investigator flipped the pages. "If he didn't, I would be surprised. Maybe we should contact these people."

"Why didn't he just get rid of it?" one trooper asked in disbelief.

"He was…but he didn't get a chance," someone commented from inside the vehicle. "He had this baby wired up. You better get the bomb techs out here. ASAP! And clear the scene!"


	14. Chapter 14

_Hotch is about to inform the team about Ashley's shooting. He gets an unexpected ally in Strauss._

_A quick note to inform my readers that I am quickly closing in on my 100th story! I have put up a poll on my profile page to vote on the pairing and prompt you would like to see for that milestone. PLEASE don't vote on the review page of my stories as it would mean that I will have to take chapters down to erase all comments, and that wouldn't be fair to people who have left reviews. Any votes made in the review section will __**NOT**__ be counted toward the final tally. Thanks! _

**Innocence Lost**

"What is happening?" Morgan demanded as he walked into the conference room. "Why were we called in? Did Doyle strike?"

"Take a seat," Hotch ordered more sharply than he intended.

"That bastard did something and I want to know!" Morgan glanced around the round table at Reid. "Where is Penelope?" he asked.

"She's busy gathering information; sit down, Agent Morgan," Director Strauss ordered with a bite in her tone. Morgan hesitated for a moment, then did as he was told.

"Hotch, what's happened?" Reid asked. It was late in the evening and though he had no real set plans, being called in was anything but unexpected, but it did cause a sour feeling in his gut. The last time the team had been brought in this late, Morgan had been arrested in Chicago for a murder he didn't commit. It was not lost on the young agent that now Morgan was at the round table and they had been called in - which he assumed was for Emily.

"You were correct; Doyle struck," Hotch replied.

"I knew it!" Morgan thundered, his hands striking the table top with a loud slap.

"Agent Morgan, calm down," Strauss ordered.

"I knew it! That son of a bitch…who did he get?" Morgan asked, his eyes blazing hot.

Hotch held his agent's angry gaze. "Ashley."

For a brief moment, the silence in the room was deafening. Then a primal growl of rage burst from Morgan. Jumping up from his chair, he tried to breathe, to think, but the room was closing in on him.

"Morgan…" Hotch began.

"I told you that this was going to come back on you! I told you that the deception you created was going to come back and bite you in the ass!" Morgan thundered. Too angry to trust himself to look at the two people who were responsible for the mess they were in, he began pacing. "How?"

"What?" Hotch asked.

"How did he get to her? Didn't you warn her?"

Hotch nodded. "I did. We even got a detail for her at a safe house. Somehow, Doyle's men thwarted us. We are still looking into how Doyle's men got hold of identification badges and the travel orders."

"Does it matter?" Morgan spat.

"Yes. We need to find out if he might try that here at Quantico."

"Fuck that! I want to know about my family! If he could hack into the Salt Lake server and get information about Ashley, who is to say that he hasn't done it here?"

"The computer program Garcia installed on her system prevents that. From now on, all calls are to be made on a secure line," Hotch answered. Ironically, the system that had been partly responsible for the letter of misconduct in the computer tech's file was the same one that was going to keep his agents and their families safe.

"Your family has been moved to an undisclosed location," JJ said softly.

"You!" Morgan turned on the blonde agent who had once been his friend. "You knew about this and you helped cover it up! Now Ashley's become Doyle's victim….all because you needed to fake Emily's death and keep it a secret from us!"

"That's enough, Agent Morgan! Sit down!" Strauss commanded. Her voice held no room for argument.

Breathing heavily, Morgan paused before doing as he was instructed.

"How is Ashley?" Reid asked, his voice cutting thru the heavy silence.

"She's in critical condition," JJ replied.

"What are her injuries?" Genuine concern was on his face.

"From what we know right now, the vehicle she was in was run off the road at a high rate of speed. She wasn't wearing her seatbelt - it's possible that the UNSUB released it sometime while they were being pursued," JJ said. For a brief moment, she was overwhelmed by emotion and had to stop. "Her head hit the dashboard upon impact and then she was hit by the airbag. She was shot point blank in the head."

"Where is the guy?" Morgan asked.

"Dead," Hotch answered. "We believe that Ashley was taken and they were going to try and make it look like an accident. We found the driver outside of the vehicle with a gunshot to his chest and one to his head. They may have been working as a team because the bullets found at the scene don't match the weapon the UNSUB had in his possession."

"Have alerts been put up?" Reid inquired.

"He's dead," Hotch replied flatly. "He was trying to leave Utah and made a U Turn in the middle of the highway. The State Troopers gave pursuit until they laid the spike strips. He fired on the officers who returned and killed him. We believe it may have been a suicide by cop after he took as many as he could out."

"Great! Now how are we supposed to find Doyle and what he has in store?" Morgan asked. "He's sneaking in and taking us out one by one and there is nothing we can do! Now this guy is dead and we have nothing."

"We do," Hotch corrected. "They found a bomb in his car that he failed to detonate before being killed. There was also a dossier on us. Garcia is working right now to translate the code."

Reid asked, "What kind of code?"

"A mixture of Gaelic and Arabic."

"I might be able to help her with the Gaelic part."

Hotch nodded. "Go. Let me know the moment you learn something." The young agent hurried out of the room.

"Now what do we do?" Morgan asked with a snort in his tone. "Are we going to sit around and wait for Doyle to strike again?"

"The team is going to reside here until Doyle is caught," Strauss informed him. "As for Agents Prentiss and Rossi, we still have not been able to get hold of them. From what we can gather, they made it safely out of Italy and France."

"Yet, you don't know where they are. How do you know that Doyle didn't get to them?" Morgan asked.

"Because if he had, he wouldn't have gone after Agent Seaver. We have Interpol on alert to meet them and put them in hiding the moment they make it to the embassy in London."

The silence grew uncomfortable as the four agents looked at one another.

"I told you that something was going to happen and that it was going to be on you," Morgan spoke up.

Hotch met his gaze evenly. "You did."

"How does it feel?" Morgan's angry gaze burned into the Unit Chief's gaze. Not waiting for answer, Morgan walked out of the room.

"I'll be in my office. Agent Hotchner, get some rest," Strauss announced. She left quietly.

JJ looked at her former boss. "Are you alright?"

"He is correct. This is on me." Hotch ran a weary hand over his face.

"And me," JJ added. "I was the one who got everything together and laid the groundwork to fake Emily's death. I was the one who had to get permission from the higher ups."

"I had to sign off on it. I had to approve it," Hotch contradicted.

"You had no choice! Doyle was going to kill us all if we hadn't done this!" JJ argued.

"We could have thought of some other way; something less dramatic."

"There was no other option. Anything less would have exposed Emily and put the team in danger."

"We should have let the team in."

JJ shook her head. "That was out of the question. I was allowed to let one other person aside from Strauss in on this plan, and I chose you. Too many people knowing would have been a security risk."

"Well, that plan has two agents running for their lives in England, and another agent fighting for hers."

"We will get Rossi and Emily home safely, and Ashley will pull through."

Hotch searched for a response. Finally he spoke. "Can you guarantee it?"

JJ nodded. "Yes." She reached out and touched his arm. "Have you talked to Jack today?"

Hotch shook his head. "No. It's too late to call; I was going to wait until tomorrow and use a secure line. Have you talked to Henry?"

"No. I guess great minds think alike because I was going to call him tomorrow."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your evening," Hotch apologized.

JJ smiled softly. "You didn't. I was going to go to bed early after taking a bath for the first time in a long time. Nothing to interrupt me. A rare mommy alone moment."

"It's going to be a long next couple of days," Hotch observed sardonically. "You look like hell. Why don't you take the couch in Dave's office and try to get some sleep?"

"That sounds good. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, maybe?" JJ asked.

"Thanks, but I'm good."

JJ touched his arm once more. "Get some sleep, okay? Don't hesitate if you need someone to talk to."

"Thanks."

Smiling again, JJ turned and left the room. Closing the door, she leaned against it and closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. Letting out her breath, she headed toward Dave's office.


	15. Chapter 15

_Em is about to find out that Doyle is slowly making his way to her via the team. _

_**A quick note to inform my readers that I am quickly closing in on my 100th story! I have put up a poll on my profile page to vote on the pairing and prompt you would like to see for that milestone. PLEASE don't vote on the review page of my stories as it would mean that I will have to take chapters down to erase all comments, and that wouldn't be fair to people who have left reviews. Any votes made in the review section will NOT be counted toward the final tally. Thanks! **_

**Innocence Lost**

Dawn slowly broke thru the dark night that covered the English countryside. Outside, the wind blew hard and cold. Its force tried to get penetrate the quaint but well built cottage. Inside, the two occupants lay oblivious to what was happening. At least one was. The other lay tossing and turning.

Em sat straight up in her bed and tried to catch her breath. Frightened from the dream, her body covered in a cold sweat, she ran a hand over face. Taking a breath, it caught on a sob. Something was definitely wrong and what ever it was, was powerful enough to wake her up. Cold, she was so cold…

"Em?" Dave spoke up from the next bed. "Are you alright?"

"No," she answered. A cold feeling invaded her body and chilled her blood. "Something is wrong."

"Are you sure?" he asked, coming fully awake.

"I feel it. Doyle got to the team." Swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress, she searched for her shoes and socks.

"Em…"

"Call it my profiler instinct or gut feeling, but I know that Doyle has struck." Pulling on her socks, she tied the boots in the dark of the room.

Dave sat up. "Where are you going?"

"I have to call Hotch."

"Is that wise? I thought you said Doyle could have lines tapped."

"If I call the BAU, Pen will have set up a double secured line." Grabbing the heavy sweater off the back of the chair, she donned it. Her cold fingers numbly fastened the buttons.

"Hotch will call us," Dave assured. "If something has happened, he'll let us know."

"What if he can't?" she argued. "I can't sleep until I know what is going on. What if Doyle got to JJ and Henry?"

Dave reached out and grabbed her wrist. "It's going to be okay. Trust me." His eyes searched hers in the faint morning light.

"I need to call him." Turning, she blindly made her way out of the bedroom, down the narrow stair case to the main room. The cold air hit her. Looking around, she noticed the fire had gone out. Maybe she could add a couple of logs and take the chill out. After all, she and Dave had promised the man who owned the cottage to provide upkeep until he got back from tending to his livestock. It was the least she could do.

But first she had to call Hotch. Picking up the receiver, she dialed for a connection. Waiting for an operator, she rambled off the secure number to the Hoover Building. Patiently she waited until the connection went through and the call was accepted.

"Hotchner," the voice greeted wearily.

"Hotch, it's Emily."

"Emily! You shouldn't be calling," Hotch reproved.

"What's happening?" she rushed on. Guilt filled her belly.

Hotch paused. "Doyle got to Ashley."

Em swallowed hard and tried to find her voice. "What? When?" she whispered.

"Yesterday. Outside of Salt Lake City. It was a professional hit."

"How is she?" Em choked. Tears filled her eyes and she tried to blink them back.

"I've been keeping in contact with the doctors…it's not good," Hotch finished.

"She's alive?"

"She was shot in the head, but the bullet bounced off. The doctors are calling it a 'miracle shot'. Unfortunately, she hit her head on the dash when the UNSUB unbuckled her seatbelt before driving the car she was in into ditch. The swelling still hasn't gone down. They are worried about her brain stem."

Em digested his words. Twice she tried to speak but came up empty.

"Where are you guys?" Hotch's cut thru her thoughts.

"We are just outside of London…maybe an hour or less. I can get him to the embassy."

"No. Stay there," Hotch ordered. "I don't know where you are but you are safe."

"But you guys aren't," she argued.

"We can take care of ourselves; everyone is on high alert. Everyone is involved."

"What about Ash's mother?"

"She's being flown in under heavy security. We reported that Ashley died."

Em nodded. "Doyle will get comfortable and could step out of his comfort zone."

"That's what we are hoping."

"Is JJ there?"

"She is," Hotch replied tersely.

Em blinked fast. "I'm sorry about this, Hotch. I never meant for anything to go this far."

Hotch interrupted her. "Emily, this is no time for apologies. We need to find out where Doyle is so we can stop him."

Em searched her brain. "I think I might know where he is…"

"Where?"

"He had two chateaus in France. One outside of Paris and one in Nice."

"We knew about Paris. I didn't know about the second one."

"The one in Nice is in Declan's middle name. That is why you can't trace it. If Doyle is who I think he is, he hasn't let it go. Have Pen do a search for Connor Brosnan," Em offered.

Hotch became quiet as he struggled for words. "I'll pass this on to Interpol. Until then, I want you and Dave to remain where you are. I will call you when I hear something. You know that I can't get you any help."

"I know. I can do this on my own."

"Dave can help."

"No. He can't get involved," Em argued. "He's too valuable to the team. If something were to happen…" her voice trailed off.

"Emily… don't be afraid to ask for help."

She nodded noncommittally. "I'll keep that in mind. Any word on my mother?" Em changed the subject.

"She was in Austria for a meeting yesterday. She is supposed to be arriving in London tomorrow or the day after. Interpol is going to guard her."

"Thank you."

"Stay safe."

"Hotch, I'm -"

"We will talk about this when you get back," he stated in a tight voice.

Em lowered her eyes. "I understand." She didn't have the courage to tell him that she was never going back to the States ever again.

"Yes." She held the phone to her ear long after Hotch had hung up.

"Doyle got to Ashley," Dave stated in a flat tone.

Em replaced the receiver. Turning, she tried to meet Dave's eyes. "Yes."

"She's still alive?"

"Barely," Em replied in a tight voice. She tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. "They are reporting that she died. It could make Ian feel overconfident," she added.

"It could." Dave watched her carefully. "What else did Hotch say?"

"That we need to stay here until he tells us otherwise."

"And you think we shouldn't?"

"I need to get you back to D.C."

"I'm staying."

"You're leaving," Em contradicted.

"I'm staying. And there is nothing you can do about it, Emily," Dave returned evenly and took her hands in his.

Em pulled back, her eyes snapping. "You're going back! And don't 'Emily' me!" she spat. Turning on her heel, she stormed out of the cottage, slamming the door hard behind her.

Dave let out a heavy sigh.


	16. Chapter 16

_Sorry about the long wait. The next chapter is up and Doyle is about to learn a secret about Emily that could change things for everyone involved. _

**Innocence Lost**

Tucked away safely in his villa, Ian Doyle grabbed the phone on the second ring.

"It is done," the voice on the other end replied.

"She is dead?" Doyle asked, his eyes brightening at the thought of hurting the FBI.

"Yes, but not without loss. We lost O'Brien and Moran."

Doyle shrugged. "Just collateral damage. They can be replaced. What else have you found out?"

"The FBI has closed ranks and they have hidden the families. With a little luck, I may be able to find them. If you give me time," the voice added as an afterthought.

"Have you tried hacking into the database?" Doyle jotted down notes on the legal pad beside him.

"Once. Whatever security they had has been updated. I could not penetrate the firewall."

"Keep trying," Doyle growled.

A long silence fell between the men.

"I did find something that might interest you."

"I'm listening."

"I dug deep into Emily Prentiss's background and found out that her parents are ambassadors."

Doyle's pen paused. "Is that so?"

"Alan Prentiss is currently fishing up in Alaska with some senator. I could send a couple of men up there to take care of him."

"No. The senator would be guarded and it's too risky. What about Emily's mother?" Doyle asked.

"Elizabeth Prentiss is currently at a post in London. I inquired about her and she is out of the country on a diplomatic retreat. She should be arriving back on Thursday."

"Find out how she is traveling," Doyle ordered.

"I heard that the Ambassadors and Emily Prentiss are not close."

"A daughter always cares about their mother. Much like a father always cares for his son."

"It could be risky."

"Emily Prentiss has gone underground with David Rossi. If anything will bring her out of hiding it will be that her mother's life is in danger. I'll make her choose between the woman who gave her life and the man she loves." Doyle paused. "Then I will kill her."

"I will get that itinerary to you."

"You have an hour."

"Yes."

The other line was disconnected.

Leaning back in his chair, Doyle looked at the pictures on his wide desk. Frames of his beloved Declan were scattered about, but in the middle stood one lone picture of Emily. Encased in a silver frame, it was a profile of Emily lost in thought. He had taken it without her knowing. And it had always been his favourite. Even when he was in prison, he had held on to the picture of his beloved Lauren and one of Declan.

He had been led to believe that they had died as a result of his ties to underworld figures. He had wept openly as the photos of their murder were laid before him by the South Korean officials. He had nothing to live for, so he gave in and admitted his crimes.

He had almost settled in for a lifetime in prison until one of his aides smuggled in a newspaper article from the United States. There had been a hit on one of the FBI higher ups and a picture was on the front page. Maybe it was a coincidence, but the brunette seemed familiar. He didn't have the heart to look at it. Nothing that happened in the United States affected him. Then he took a closer look.

It couldn't be Lauren. She was dead. So was Declan. But upon closer inspection, his heart sunk as the realization that he had been betrayed by the woman he had loved and given his soul to began to dawn. With in seconds the love he felt was replaced by anger.

Right then and there he began planning his escape. It had taken everything he had to break out and go into hiding. The one saving grace was that he had his chateau in Declan's name. He still had a hideaway.

But before he did that, he had one stop. He had to make sure it was real before he could move on. He had to see Lauren and Declan's bodies.

As he stood by the graves and waited for the lids to be open, he had prayed that they would be in there.

They weren't.

At that moment his anger turned to revenge.

He tried every avenue to locate his son, but every time he got close, he hit a brick wall. So, he went after the one person who had started everything: Lauren Reynolds….correction: Emily Prentiss.

He had come so close to eliminating her. Until she got the upper hand. She had gotten the better of him and threw him off his game. One would have thought she had given life to Declan from the way she fought like hell to protect him. And if he hadn't hated her so much at that moment, he would have taken her and tried to turn her around to his side and then together they would have found the boy to raise.

But she wanted to kill him. It was in her eyes and actions. She had just as much revenge toward him as he had toward her. It was a life and death struggle for one little boy. And she would have won…she _should _have won, except her team found her.

The blow killed her…at least that is what the autopsy said. A nick of an artery and damage to her liver and she was a goner.

_Bastards!_ He screamed silently as he learned the truth. Now he was going to succeed where he had failed before.

Picking up the frame, he traced Em's profile with his index finger.

"We will meet again, Lauren…Emily…whoever you are this time around. And you will have to choose as I had. Too bad you will have to watch me kill them both. But don't worry, a chuisle mo chroí, I'll make sure your suffering only lasts long enough to satisfy me."

Doyle's smile was cold.


	17. Chapter 17

_Poor Em is on the verge of breaking down as everything begins to pile on her guilty conscience. And Dave decides to finally take charge._

**Innocence Lost**

Looking out the tiny squared windows, Dave watched Em. For nearly an hour he had kept an eye on her and her every move. But she hadn't moved. Not so much as a twitch. He knew she was capable of taking care of herself, but since the phone call with Hotch, he now wondered if she wasn't planning on leaving in the middle of the night to confront Doyle on her own.

Stepping back, Dave looked around the room. He wouldn't mind staying in the cottage until Doyle was caught, but he didn't want to stay alone. As much as Em wanted to protect him from the bad guys, she couldn't do it all on her own. They were going to have to team up. Regardless of her pride.

Turning around, he walked over to the fireplace and added a couple of more logs. He rubbed his hands together; the temperature was dropping. It was getting cold. He was going to need to get Em inside soon.

Opening the door, he paused briefly as he crossed the threshold. It was time to break all the walls down.

*********

A heavy mist hung in the air as the wind picked up. The sun was hidden behind the heavy dark grey clouds and a chill was in the air.

Em stood against the tree and watched the horizon that seemingly matched her mood. Dreary, forlorn, and ready to break. Shivering, she burrowed deeper into her jacket and rubbed her fingers against the down lining of the pockets to take away the cold.

She didn't know how long she had been out in the cold and she didn't care. She had killed Ashley. Whether she had physically pulled the trigger was beside the point; her actions had led up to the moment when everyone's life had been put in danger. Whether it had been luck or design, running across Dave in Italy had been the only thing that had saved the team.

_Except Ashley!_ Her brain screamed.

How could she ever go back to Quantico and face the team knowing what she knew - what they knew? She had betrayed them and their trust and led them to the slaughter. Ashley was proof of her cowardice. It was too late to go back and change things. And it was too late to say she was sorry. But it wasn't too late to save Dave and the rest of the team and kill Doyle once and for all.

The wind picked up. She shivered again and tried to blink back tears of self pity.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind caused her to go on alert.

"Emily?" Dave said low as he came closer. She ignored him by keeping her eyes straight ahead. Sighing, Dave shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

"It's getting cold; you should come inside before you catch your death." Immediately he bit his tongue at his poor choice of words. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

Stiffening, Em took a step forward. "I'm fine."

"It's getting cold and it feels like rain." Dave kept his eyes on her. "And I think we need to talk."

Em shook her head. "No, Dave. We don't need to talk. I need to figure out how to get you out of here and back to Hotch where he can protect you."

Dave shrugged. "I don't want to go back. And you've done a pretty good job protecting me."

Em's lip twitched. "Yeah, and that is why Ashley is fighting for her life."

"You didn't do that."

"Really?" she croaked. "I might as well have pulled the trigger."

"You didn't. Doyle did."

"It was my fault. I should have tried harder to protect the team."

"How?" Dave asked incredulously. "Go back to the States? Contact the team? How could you have prevented this?"

"I should have told you guys what Doyle was planning. I should have been honest from the beginning."

"You weren't. But that can't be changed. And what happened to Ashley…do you really think you could have prevented that?"

Em brushed the tears away with her fingertips. "I could have tried," she argued weakly.

"The only difference between Doyle and Foyet is the accent. They are brutal killers out for revenge and they don't care who they have to kill to get what they want. Foyet wanted fame and notoriety and to strike fear in people who caved into his demands. Doyle kills anyone in his way to seek revenge for a wrong done against him. His son is just an excuse."

Dave let his words sink in.

"Foyet wanted Hotch and that is why he killed Haley and would have killed Jack; that is why he almost killed Morgan. Doyle wants you and that is why he murdered your friends and won't let the team stand in is way. Ashley is just collateral damage."

"She deserved better."

"What's done is done. You think going back in time is going to change the outcome? That beating yourself up over what happened is going to change things right now?"

Em turned around and faced Dave. "It was my fault!"

"Yes it is," he agreed.

"I might as well have pulled the trigger!"

"I'm not going to argue with you," Dave replied. "Like I told Hotch once, you did what you thought was best at the time, but you had other things you needed to focus on. You could have come clean with us and maybe things would have turned out differently, but what if it hadn't? What if it had sped things up? And Doyle had gotten closer to the team? You said it yourself that he told you that he was focusing on us and even if you took him out, the plan was to kill the rest of us."

Em sniffled.

"You did the best you could under the circumstances." Dave reached out and touched her shoulder. "Em, what's done is done and we need to focus on where we go from here. I talked to Hotch and got the update on Ashley. She's still critical but there is so much security around her, Doyle would need an army just to get thru the front door." Dave watched her facial expressions. She was trying so hard to remain strong, but her breaking point was about to be reached.

"Come inside."

Em nodded stiffly. "Okay."

"It's going to be okay, Em. Trust me." Dave reached up and brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. Involuntarily shivered as an electric current coursed thru her body.

"I do," she breathed. Her eyes met his.

Without thinking, Dave dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers. Feeling her stiffen against him, Dave wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He had come out to tell her that he was angry with her and how betrayed he felt. But seeing her by the tree - lonely and vulnerable - his anger began to melt. And though he hadn't planned on kissing her, the thought of that night in his room in Italy had never been far from his mind.

Tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, he begged for entrance. Slowly she granted him access. As his tongue mated with hers, he suddenly realized he needed to protect her.

Em's head was spinning from everything she had just learned. And now she was in Dave's arms and he was kissing her fervently. She didn't want to return his kiss. She wanted to go off somewhere with just her thoughts, but when he deepened the kiss, she knew all bets were off. And when he pulled her closer, she was willing to take a chance and trust. For once.

Dave felt his body come to life. He needed her. Unlike any woman who had ever come into his life. He wanted to be with her and protect her. Even if it meant putting his life on the line.

Pulling back, he cupped her face in his hands. His brown eyes searched hers for the answer he was going to need.

"Come back inside," he said. "Let me warm you up."

Em nodded.

Stepping back, Dave took her hand in his. Together they walked back to the cottage.


	18. Chapter 18

_Doyle's need for revenge is hurting more than Em and the team. Hotch and JJ make a decision about their sons with differing results._

**Innocence Lost**

Hotch clutched the phone closer to his ear.

"Dad?" Jack's voice came over the line.

"Hi Jackson."

"Dad, it's really you!" the little boy greeted enthusiastically.

"How are you doing son?" Hotch's heart was in his throat.

"Good. Aunt Jessica took me swimming today and then we got ice cream."

Hotch nodded. "That sounds like it was fun."

"Yeah, but then it started to rain and we had to come inside. I wanted to float my boats in the pool, but she said no."

"_Only because there was lightning",_ Jessica's voice called out in the background.

"Aunt Jessica didn't want you to get hurt."

Jack sighed dramatically. "I know," he replied. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Dad, when can I come home?"

"Are you not having fun?" Hotch asked.

"It's okay, but I miss you."

Hotch blinked back tears. "I miss you too, son. Aunt Jessica is taking good care of you, right?"

"Yeah, but Dad, she makes lima beans. I don't like them. Even when she puts cheese on them, they still stink."

A tiny smile tugged at Hotch's lip. _Like father, like son,_ he thought.

"You still have to eat them, Jacks." A loud groan was the response. "Just a couple….for me."

Jack was silent for a long minute. "Okay, Dad."

"Is everything else okay?"

"I got to go on a real boat! And I got a hat from the captain!"

"A small boat?"

"No," Jack corrected quickly. "It was a really _big_ boat and it had planes on it, too!"

"Ah, you mean a carrier."

"Yeah. I want to grow up and fly planes."

_I want to grow up and fly planes…_ Hotch blinked back tears. If they caught Doyle, but if they didn't…. _Get a grip, Hotch! Keep talking to Jack and don't let him think anything is wrong._

"Dad, when can I see you?" Jack whined.

"Soon."

"How soon is soon? It's been days and days since I saw you."

"I know, son. I have a present for you."

"Am I going to see you?" Jack brightened at the thought.

"You and Aunt Jessica are going to Disney World for your birthday."

"NO WAY!" Jack shouted. "Really?"

"Yes. You leave tomorrow."

"Will you be there?"

Hotch paused for a moment.

"I will try."

"Dad…" Jack whined again. "That means no."

"Henry and Will are going to be there too."

"Henry is a baby." Jack kicked with his feet in frustration. "I want _you_."

Hotch sighed. "I know Jack. I'm doing the best I can."

"Are you catching the bad guys?"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you going to shoot them?"

"I don't know," Hotch admitted reluctantly.

"If they are bad, you have to shoot them."

Hotch struggled to find a reply.

"Can I be on the case with you?" Jack asked.

A smile broke across Hotch's grim features. "You are _always_ on the case with me, Jacks."

"I promise to look for the bad guys."

"You just have fun at Disney World," Hotch corrected. "You can pick me up some ears," he suggested as he tried to redirect the conversation.

"Okay! I love you, Dad."

Hotch tried to swallow around the huge lump in his throat. "I love you, too, son."

"Bye!"

"Jack, I need to speak to Aunt…" Hotch started but was cut off as the line was disconnected. For a long moment he listened to the dial tone. Hanging up the receiver, he looked at the pictures of Jack on his desk.

"I know I promised you, Haley. I'm doing the best I can to protect him, but I don't know if my best is going to be good enough. I know Doyle can't get him. Just watch over him. Please," Hotch spoke out loud to the empty room.

Picking up Jack's silver framed photo, he stared at it as though he tried to will himself to where his son was.

"Please."

One single tear broke free to run down his cheek.  
*****

"Hi, Chere," Will greeted.

"Hi, Will. How are you?"

"We just finished lunch."

"Oh. What did you have?"

"Hot dogs and mac-n-cheese. Henry doesn't like bread."

JJ bit her lip as a smile tried to form and more tears filled her eyes. "I forgot to tell you about that. But he ate everything else?"

"Oui. He has a good appetite."

"And he's sleeping alright?"

"He has his glow worm and I read him the books you gave me."

"Oh."

"You think he doesn't miss you."

JJ shook her head. "I didn't think…"

"He has been asking about you, Jen."

"Oh?"

"A little boy always misses his maman. Do you want to talk to him?"

"Yes. Wait! Will, umm, I talked to Strauss and we are going to be moving you and Henry to Disney World until this is all cleared up."

"Disney World?" Will asked incredulously.

"It's safe and…it will be good for Henry. You two can bond."

"Will you be there?"

"I can't. There is too much going on right now. Ashley is still in critical condition, and we don't know where Emily and Rossi are."

"Will you try?" Will asked a bit more forcefully.

JJ shook her head. "I can't make any promises."

"Can't or won't?"

"I don't want to fight about this right now. I called to let you know that the tickets will be delivered to you in the hour so you and Henry can leave."

"You aren't even a part of the team anymore, Jen; you don't owe them anything," Will groused.

"I was called in by Director Strauss to help out. I couldn't turn that down. Plus you know that me being there would make things worse."

"I could have taken Henry where we wouldn't have been found."

"Doyle would have found you. He has dug too deep into our files; he knows everything about us."

"Disney World is a secure place for us to be?" Will asked sarcastically.

"It has security, cameras for monitoring and metal detectors. Plus the rooms have secure locks with anti-theft burglary systems. You have to show identification at the desk upon check in; you couldn't be safer," JJ replied.

"Chere…"

"Hotch's son Jack and sister in law Jessica are going to meet you there."

"Aaron Hotchner's son?"

"His birthday is in a couple of days, so Hotch decided to send Jack there."

"Hmmm…"

"What does that mean?" JJ asked as her heart pounded faster.

"It's a helluva coincidence, Jen." Will's double meaning was not lost on JJ.

"I won't let you drag me into an argument over the phone, Will. This is a secured line and I don't have much time. We will discuss this all later."

"Whatever you say. Do you still want to talk to Henry?"

JJ blinked. "Of course." She heard the phone crackle and Will call out for their son.

"Hi Mommy!"

"Hi Baby," JJ choked out in a tearful whisper. "How are you?"

"Good. I don't like bread."

"Daddy told me. Are you being good?"

"Yes."

"Are you taking your baths?"

"Yes," Henry replied distantly. "I went swimming."

"You did?"

"Yeah. And I went under the water and I got scared but then I wasn't."

"That's my big boy."

"Daddy said I could do it again."

"Okay."

"I love you Mommy."

The tears broke free. "I love you too, Baby."

"I love you more."

"I love you more more," JJ replied.

"I love you more more more," Henry contradicted.

"I love you more than anything. I love you to the moon and back."

"I love you to the moon and stars and the whole sky!"

"You got me beat," JJ conceded. "Give me a kiss." A loud smacking sound came over the line. "Bye Baby."

"Bye Mommy! I love you. Bye!"

"Jen?" Will's voice came over the line.

"Yeah, Will?"

"We need to talk later."

"Have a safe trip to Orlando," JJ replied and hung up the phone.

Then she buried her face in her hands and wept.


	19. Chapter 19

_Em and Dave finally confront one another with the truth._

**Innocence Lost**

The fire lent an eerie glow to the room and provided slight warmth against the chill of the wind that roared and pounded against the thick walls. Em had considered making her get a way while Dave slept, but even fate seemed to be against her.

She was stuck until the owner of the cottage came back. Em let out a deep, heavy sigh. From the looks of the weather, it could be days before that happened. Crossing her legs, she settled in the overstuffed chair and watched the fire burn.

_Why didn't I just fill up at that first gas station we passed?_ She cursed herself silently. _You could have been in London already and had Dave on a plane. Then you could have gone looking for Doyle._

"Only because you're afraid of confronting the team after lying to them," she said a loud.

True, the thought of confronting Ian Doyle was less frightening than what awaited her back at Quantico. Maybe she could get Pen to side with her and see that she had no choice. And maybe with enough time and space, Reid might come around. But Morgan wasn't going to be that easy. She could count on her hand the times he had thrown her under the bus when she needed him the most. He was supposed to be her friend and partner, but when the chips were down, he had turned against her. So, was it any wonder she couldn't confide in him about Doyle?

She had pushed him away and tried to make him hate her so he wouldn't go running to Hotch. And it had worked. She needed the team to hate her so she could make her break that much cleaner. But they hadn't given up on her. They had gone after her trail and put the pieces together to the puzzle called her life.

And it had almost worked out. They had almost saved her…until Doyle got the upper hand and nearly killed her. In a way he had because there was no way she could ever go back to being Emily Prentiss. There was no way she could ever reclaim the joy and happiness she had felt with the team. He had taken away something more precious than her life: her family.

With a shaky hand, Em brushed the stray tear away. God, she was so tired of feeling sorry for herself, but what else could she do while being trapped in a cottage in the middle of nowhere with a partner she hoped to never see again?

Soft footsteps sounded on the wooden steps.

"What are you doing down here?" Dave asked, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

"Go away," Em whispered and turned her face away from him.

"It's cold and you should be asleep," Dave continued as though she hadn't spoken.

"I said to leave me alone."

"Look Em, I'm trying to be nice…"

Em's head snapped around. "I don't want you to be 'nice'; I want you to leave me alone," her voice trembled with emotion.

"Why? So, you can figure out a way to run away and leave me?" Dave replied sarcastically.

"What I do is none of your business."

"I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but _everything _you do is my business," he told her evenly. "You dragged me into this and now you're stuck with me."

"I didn't tell you to go over to Italy!" Em stood up.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Dave raged. "I meant you dragged us into this deception called your life!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Maybe you didn't mean to, but you did! Damn it, Em, what did you think we were going to do? Stand back and let that psycho just go after you and kill you?"

Em took a step forward. "That was my personal business. I didn't want any of you involved. I knew what he was capable of." She took a deep, shaky breath. "I would have died if anything had happened to any of you!"

"And you think we didn't die a little because we thought we had been that one minute late rescuing you?"

"And if you had just left me alone, I could have handled Doyle on my own. I almost had him, but you guys came in and threw me off so he got the upper hand."

"So, now it's _our_ fault?" Dave spat.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone. You all had to run in and be cowboys to save the day. And because of that, Doyle nearly killed me," Em shot back. Anger rushed through her at a rate she had never experienced before. Her heart raced and her ears rang, but she wasn't backing down.

"Let me remind you, Em, he _did_ kill you, or have you not seen your death certificate and headstone?" Their heavy breathing filled the quiet room. The seconds ticked by slowly.

"Whose idea was it?" Dave finally asked.

There was no way she was going to through her friends under the bus. Maybe that was her fate, but it shouldn't be theirs. They had sacrificed everything for her, it was the least she could do to protect them.

"Mine," she replied. She leveled a gaze at Dave that dared him to call her a liar.

"Bullshit!"

"Believe what you want; I am going to the grave with that belief."

Dave snorted. "You already have."

"That's it! When we get to London, I'm dropping your sorry ass off at the embassy. You might be lucky if I slow down before I kick you out."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Dave gave a short laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"You thinking you're the first woman to try and push me out of a moving car."

"The difference is," Em retorted, "that I plan on succeeding this time."

"Keeping dreaming, sweetheart. I promised Hotch that I wasn't going to leave your side until we got back to DC; I don't plan on breaking that promise."

"I don't need a babysitter! Besides, I'm supposed to be guarding you."

"Which is why you are going to let me on a plane by myself with Doyle's men on my ass?"

"Both of us on the plane together to possibly die defeats the purpose of one of us sticking around to catch that son of a bitch."

"I'm not getting on the plane," Dave said and took a step forward.

"You're not staying here."

"Neither are you!"

"I promised Hotch to protect you and deliver you to the embassy."

"I've seen your track record for protecting people; maybe I'm better off taking my life in my own hands," Dave growled.

Em gasped as the meaning of his words sank in. Without thinking, her hand flew out and caught his cheek.


	20. Chapter 20

_The moment between Dave and Em is about to culminate to the point of no return as each try to hold on while expecting the other to give in._

**Innocence Lost**

The sound of Em's palm against Dave's cheek filled the room.

"How dare you?" she whispered as the bile rose in her stomach and threatened to gag her.

"No. How dare you? You are the reason the team is in hiding for their lives and their families are broken. You are the reason why Ashley is fighting for her life."

Em tried to quell the sobs that heaved her chest.

"You could have come clean with us. When all of this was happening, you could have told us that some crazed man was going after you and we would have moved heaven and earth to protect you. But you didn't and now we are all going to pay the price," Dave continued in a flat monotone.

Em struggled to find the right words to debunk his statement. She tried to find something to defend herself. But she couldn't. What she had done was horrible and indefensible. And now everyone was going to pay the price because of her inability to trust.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." Turning around she moved toward the stairs. "I'll call Hotch and tell him to get hold of someone at the CIA to come and get you. Then you can be rid of me and never have to see me again."

Filled with sudden regret for his outburst, Dave reached out and grabbed her arm. "Em…"

Em stopped in her tracks. Her body tightened at his touch, but her eyes remained downcast. "Let me go. Please."

"Em, hear me out."

"You're right. Is that what you want to hear? I said it. You are right about me. Ashley is my fault; all of this is my fault." She tried to free herself. "Now let me go."

"No." Dave moved closer to her. The grief over Ashley and the year of living on the run was apparent on her features. If he hadn't believed that Em was sorry about what had transpired a year ago, she was definitely sorry for all that had happened in the past week.

"Please, Dave. Let me go. You'll never see me again," Em pleaded. She had to get away.

Cupping her face in his large hands, Dave stared down at her. "I'm not letting you go." He dipped his head toward her. "Never again."

"Don't…" she whispered before his mouth covered hers for a gentle kiss that tried to mend the hurt of the words thrown out earlier.

Dave felt her tense up as he tightened his hold on her. Moving his lips slowly trying to coax a reaction, he traced the seam of her lips until she opened up and let him in. Groaning low, he deepened the kiss.

Em tried to hold back, but the moment Dave begged for entrance and his tongue touched hers, she gave up the fight. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him closer. She was tired of running and leaning on herself for strength. She was ready to give in and let someone else take charge…or at least it was a good fantasy…not as good as the fantasy of Dave's mouth on hers or the feeling of his hands roaming her body. But she was tired of hiding and living in the shadows.

Arching into his touch, Em moaned low in her throat as Dave trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck to the pulsating point in her throat. Lower his head moved as he tasted her skin. The feel of his stubble was both erotic and ticklish and it was driving her out of her mind.

"Dave…" she sighed as his lips moved down to her breasts. She sucked in her breath as he parted her shirt to run a hand over the nipple before he took it in his mouth and suckled on it. Weaving her fingers in his hair, she tried to hold on to him for sanity and balance.

"Dave…" she pleaded in a voice that wasn't hers. She wanted him. All of him. Now.

"Let me in, Em," Dave breathed against her skin. "Please." He stood up to look her in the eyes.

Em nodded. "Yes."

That was the only answer Dave needed. Sweeping her up in his arms, Dave carried her upstairs to the bedroom. Kicking the door shut with his foot, he moved over to the side of the bed where he placed Em gently on the mattress.

Quickly he undressed her then shed his own clothing before lying down beside her. Gently his hands moved over her body to discover every single secret inch of her. So soft, yet so vulnerable, he didn't rush the moment as he tried to learn all he could to tear down that final wall between them.

As his hands worked their magic, his mouth tasted her. So delicious. He heard her moans as he made love to her. Glancing up, he noticed that her hands clutched the pillow under her head. She was still holding back.

Pulling back, he watched her. "Touch me."

Em's eyes flew open. "What?" she breathed.

"Touch me," Dave repeated. He was opening himself to her and expecting the same in return. In a moment that could decide which path they were going to take, Em reached out and touched him. Dave let out a deep groan as Em's hand wrapped around him.

More brazen than she thought possible, Em stroked him slowly until he gasped her name and reach out to still her hand.

"We have all night sweetheart. Trust me."

Em met his dark, desire filled gaze. "I do."

Pulling her close, Dave covered her mouth for a deep, passionate kiss. As though their lives depended on it, they tried to take from the other the protection and strength they needed. But the more they took, the faster the realization dawned that everything they needed was right there; they didn't have to take, and they didn't have to run.

Moving his hand along the length of Em's body, he moved to the area between her thighs. Cupping the moist curls, he teased her with his index finger until her hips undulated under him. Her pants and gasps for breath only made him want to push her further over the edge.

"Come on, Em," he encouraged as his finger dipped inside and stroked her.

"Dave…" She cried out as he increased the tempo. She tried to hold back, but he was breaking her down and making her give in. Faster his fingers moved. Then his knee edged her thighs apart and her world shattered into a million pieces. Holding on for dear life, Em's body arched and bucked under his ministrations as she finally let go.

Slowly she returned back to earth. Tears ran from her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Without saying a word, Dave moved his body to cover hers. Probing gently, he slowly filled her with his length. Inch by inch he took his time to let her get use to his size.

Buried to the hilt, he tried to reign his emotions in. The moment was so surreal he didn't know what to do next. Sure he had fantasized about making love to Emily Prentiss, but he never imagined the moment would arrive. At least not after all they had been through.

Watching his hesitation, Em took that moment to arch her hips up. Pulling Dave down toward her, she pressed her lips to his as she set the rhythm and dared him to keep up. Slow at first, she teased him, taking the upper hand.

But it was a short lived victory.

Getting his second wind, Dave pulled out and pushed back in. At her gasp, he smiled. If she wanted him, she was going to have to fight him. And this time, he was going to make her surrender. Fully.

Slow, long strokes made Em gasp out Dave's name as he pushed her. He was teasing her to keep up. But she didn't care. She was through running; she was ready to give in. Fully.

Increasing his tempo, Dave felt her velvet walls grasp and hold him as her orgasm overwhelmed her. Bucking wildly, Em cried out as her body tried so hard to hold on…but it was too late; she had already given in. Sobbing out his name, Em let herself tumble over the edge of no return.

Watching her face, Dave barely had time to relish in his victory as his body tightened and threatened to explode. Faster he moved his hips as he increased his tempo. He was almost there.

His heart pounding, his body covered with sweat, and the sense of completion just out of his reach, Dave looked deep into Em's eyes as he gave one last deep thrust.

As his body bucked and shuddered to completion, Dave felt Em's arms go around him and hold him tight. Calling out her name, he swore he died as he poured himself into her and cleansed his soul once and for all.


	21. Chapter 21

_Will, Henry, Jessica, and Jack arrive in Orlando with surprising results. Meanwhile, back in England, Em comes clean about her past to Dave who makes her take the ultimate vow._

**Innocence Lost**

Will held on to Henry's small hand as he tried to grab the luggage.

"Daddy!" Henry pointed excitedly at the pictures adorning the walls of the lobby. "It's Mickey!" He bounced up and down. "It's Mickey!"

"I know, son."

"Let's go see him!" Henry tugged on his father's hand.

"Not right now. We have to get checked in. Then you need a nap."

"Not tired!" Henry pouted. "Wanna see Mickey!"

"Calm down, mon lapin," Will said as he wheeled the suitcase behind. "We will see everything."

"I don't see Mommy," Henry complained as he looked around. His eyes filled with tears.

"Your maman is busy at work trying to get the bad guys," Will comforted but his tone was exasperated.

Henry's lip pouted. "I want her here."

"Me too, mon fils. Let's get check in." Dragging his son and the luggage to the front desk, Will waited while the concierge confirmed the reservation and handed him a packet.

"If there is anything we can do for you, Mr. LaMontange, let us know."

"Merci." Grabbing the packet, Will called for Henry.

"Daddy! Jack is here!" Before Will could stop him, Henry ran for the little boy he considered his best friend. "Jack!" Henry hugged the other boy tightly.

"Hey!" Jack complained.

Henry looked up at the woman standing beside his friend. "Are you Jack's mommy?" he asked wide-eyed.

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Smiling tightly, Jessica scanned the little boy who was the son of Jennifer Jareau. _Not much different than Aaron Hotchner, _she mused. _Except JJ's ex is still alive._

"I'm Jessica, Jack's aunt. You must be Henry," she replied.

"That's my daddy," Henry replied, pointing to the average looking Cajun.

Jessica scanned the man from head to toe. Not quite what she expected Jennifer to choose to father her child, but then again, she had had the same reservations when Haley had brought home Aaron. _Oh,_ she thought amusingly, _this could get interesting._

Extending her hand graciously, Jessica shook Will's. The surge of electricity was not lost on either adult.

"I'm Jessica."

"Will. JJ said you would be here. She didn't say how beautiful you would be."

"Charming. What are you doing for dinner?" Jessica asked, her cheeks flushing softly.

"Depends…are you asking or inviting?" Will asked cautiously.

"Inviting."

"Chaperoned?"

"Of course."

"Six?"

"Meet you here in the lobby," Will offered.

"We'll be here." Jessica turned to Jack. "Come on. We need to unpack."

"Bye Jack!" Henry called out.

"Bye Henry."

Henry turned to Will. "Can I play with Jack?"

Will watched at the pair entered the elevator and the door closed. "Later, mon fils. Later." Snapping back, he grabbed their luggage. "Let's go to our room."  
*******

Em lay with her head resting on Dave's chest. Closing her eyes, she listened to his heavy heart beat and relaxed as his hands stroked her hair.

"What are you thinking, Tesoro?" Dave asked.

"I don't know."

"Tell me," Dave encouraged.

Em took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm thinking how you must hate me."

Dave continued stroking Em's soft black locks. "What do you mean?"

"Getting you involved in all of this."

"I don't hate you, Em."

"Sure."

"I'm disappointed, but I don't hate you," Dave affirmed.

"Even knowing what you know about my involvement with Doyle?" she asked softly.

"All I know is what Interpol released."

"Aren't you curious?"

Dave shrugged. "That was in your past. It may have made you who you were then, but the Emily Prentiss I know couldn't be Lauren Reynolds." Outside the wind blew fiercely as heavy rain drops pounded out a tattoo on the roof.

"Did you love him?" Dave asked softly.

Em held her breath. "Who?" she asked stupidly.

"Doyle. Did you love him?"

"I think I did, but I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I was supposed to be playing a role. I wasn't supposed to 'fall in love'," Em admitted.

"You can't control who you fall in love with," Dave sympathized. "I should know. I should have known about two of my wives, but I was caught up in the moment."

"But were you ordered to sleep with your ex wives?" Em commented bitterly. "Even when it went against every bit of common sense you had?"

"We all get caught up in the moment. But you're avoiding my question: Did you love him?"

"No. I was infatuated with his power, and I admired his parenting, but I didn't love him."

"When did you know?"

"When he asked me to marry him to be a mother to his son. He didn't love me; he wanted a permanent babysitter so he could go away and do his terrorism without feeling like he had abandoned Declyn."

Dave's arm tightened around her waist to draw her closer. "Because you know what it's like to be abandoned," he stated simply. He still remembered their talk at the burned out building where Em had confided her deep dark secret. He remembered watching her face as he profiled her. It had struck him that it wasn't so much the abortion that had scarred her, but the sense that she had been abandoned by those she had loved and trusted.

"Doyle had a choice to be a father or a criminal. If he had such disregard for his flesh and blood, I was nothing to him. After that, I had to force myself to sleep with him."

"Even after you took his ring," Dave surmised.

"I had to," Em confessed. Her eyes filled with tears. "Interpol told me to keep going along with the façade because they didn't have enough evidence on him. So, every night for six more months, I had to pretend to be the faithful fiancée and submit. I think the thing Doyle like about me was that I was always taking a shower."

"You were trying to wash his scent off," Dave observed. His hand lovingly stroked Em's back.

"It was worse than rape…on many levels. At least with rape, it's usually unplanned and you don't expect it. But this…" Em swallowed hard. "This," she continued in a shaky voice, "was ordered by government bureaucrats." She wiped away stray tears. "I should have left."

"You couldn't."

"I could have tried."

"But you would have left that boy behind. He would have been killed when they grabbed Doyle," Dave contradicted.

"I did try to run. Once."

"What happened?"

"Doyle told me that if I tried again, he would personally rip my heart out. Especially when…" Em tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to overwhelm her. "When…"

"When you found out you were pregnant," Dave finished.

"Yes," Em sobbed openly. She let her tears fall on Dave's chest as her body shook from the grief she had held in for so many years.

Wise from years of being a profiler and being raised around women, Dave held Em close and held his tongue. Nothing he said could right the past and nothing he said was going to change the present. It was something Em was going to have to come to an understanding with if they were to move on and defeat Doyle.

Em's sobs filled the quiet room for a few minutes. Wiping her cheeks, she took a shuddered breath.

"Feel better?" Dave asked.

"I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for," he replied. "You aren't the first woman to break down in my arms."

"I don't break down," Em argued.

"I think the tears on my chest state the contrary." Lifting Em's head, Dave looked into her eyes. "What happened to the baby?"

"I lost it."

"How?"

Em shook her head. "Not like that!"

"I know you didn't."

"I wanted the baby. It wasn't guilty for its father's sins. And I figured by the time I started showing, Interpol would have me out of there."

"Did Doyle…?" Dave felt his anger rise.

Em shook her head. "No. He wanted the baby too. He would have never done anything to harm it. It was when Interpol came and grabbed me from the chateau…they were trying to make it look like I had been apprehended for questioning. I didn't know they had grabbed Declyn too. That was when the stage was set to make it look like we had been killed.

"Maybe it was the stress or…maybe God thought a child born of a terrorist and a con artist would have had too much of a burden in life to deal with…but I miscarried about two months after leaving Doyle."

"I'm sorry." And Dave truly was.

"I wasn't," Em confessed. "It made it that much easier to shed Lauren Reynolds. I went on to Chicago, then the BAU. I moved on."

"Do you regret it?" Dave wondered a loud.

Em lifted her shoulder slightly. "I don't know. It was a job and I got too involved."

"This explains your ability to compartmentalize."

"I guess."

Em laid her head back down on Dave's chest and closed her eyes. It had been so long since anyone had listened to her side. It had been even longer since anyone had offered unconditional support. Actually, Dave had been the only person to do any of the above. And now he was the one beside her in her time of need. Was it fate or irony?

"Can you kill him?" Dave asked, his voice breaking through Em's thoughts.

"Yes." There was no hesitation. "He wants to kill my friends and he wants to find Declyn. When he does that, he will kill anyone who wants to protect that little boy. And when he gets Declyn in his clutches, he will raise another terrorist. I won't let that happen."

"And I will be there to help you."

Em raised herself on her elbows. "Dave, I can't let you."

Dave stroked her cheek with his finger. "Tesoro, you don't have a choice. You have me for life."

Em bit her lip. "If something were to happen…"

"If it does, it's God's will. But you can't face this mad man by yourself and there is no way we can get reinforcements in time. I have a feeling that when he strikes, he's going to go for your jugular." Dave cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes. "When he does, whatever you do, don't choose me to save."

"Dave…" Em started but was cut off as Dave rolled her over and settled between her thighs.

"Promise me," he whispered as his mouth moved over Em's skin.

"I promise."

Between Dave's kisses and love-making, Em lost herself in the moment.


	22. Chapter 22

_Okay, dear readers, I have to break the news that this is going to be the last chapter in this story. I had debated making it longer, but as I wrote it out, I realized that once Doyle makes his move, all innocence was going to be officially over. Nothing is going to be the same for the team as they all move into the final stage of Doyle's cruel game. I hope you all like the twists I put in._

_I don't own Criminal Minds. Though I wish I did because I would have signed Thomas Gibson with the pay raise of his choice from the get go. Now let the filming begin!_

_**Song prompt: "Innocence Lost" by Amy Grant.**_

Innocence Lost

Erin Strauss hiked her purse strap higher on her shoulder and let out a deep sigh. It had been a long week of being stuck in the Hoover Building while trying to arrange the transport of her agents overseas and the security of the ones still in the States. Sometimes she knew she didn't get paid enough.

_Face it, Erin, you're a babysitter,_ she chided herself. _If it isn't Aaron Hotchner going off the deep end, it's David Rossi going maverick. No matter what, they were put on this earth to make you crazy._

"When David gets back from England, I'm personally going to put a foot in his ass. Then fire him," she complained out loud. "I don't care how great of a lover he used to be; it's time to put that stud out to pasture."

But what to do with Hotchner?

Groaning, she searched for her keys. She had enough to worry about with the team and everything else that was happening; she would worry about Aaron Hotchner tomorrow. Right now she had been cleared to leave for the night and she was going to make her escape…even if it killed her. She needed to get away from those four walls that kept feeling like they were closing in.

Taking a deep breath, she let herself breathe in the cool crisp Virginia night air. Looking up at the sky, she noticed the stars. _Ah, the Little Dipper…and Orion's Belt._ Maybe when all this was said and done, she would take a vacation with the family. They all deserved it.

Looking at her watch, she calculated the time. She had forty-five minutes to get across town to her daughter's recital. Seventeen and already she had landed the lead in 'Swan Lake'. No mother on the planet could be prouder than her right now.

Opening the car door, she threw her purse inside and got in. Fastening the seat belt, she inserted the key and turned the ignition.

"I hope Charles remembered to bring the camera," she groused.

That was her last thought as a bright white light lit everything up for an instant. Then the light went out.  
*****

He had bided his time long enough. Now it was time to make everyone who had made his life a living hell pay in more ways than one. When it was all over, the name Ian Doyle was going to be both feared and respected by everyone.

And one person in particular was going to cry and beg for mercy and he was going to relish in the moment when he could look her in the eye and let her know that he was all out; maybe she might get some from the devil.

Even when he was at the moment when he could take her life, he was going to draw it out - long and slow. He wanted to hear what she had to say when she broke. He wanted to finally hear the truth. And when he got what he wanted, he was going to keep the promise he had made to her all of those years ago: he was going to rip her heart out.

The joy of completion was going to come when he watched her eyes flutter shut for the last time. Fuck that! She was going to die with her eyes open; he was going to watch the life go out for himself. He was going to make sure, this time, she was dead.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, he inhaled deeply and let the pungent smoke fill his lungs. Holding it, he felt the burn. It rejuvenated him.

"Boss, we estimate that the car will be in your area within the next five minutes," a voice came through his earpiece.

"Are you sure it's her?" Doyle asked flatly. Too many times he had set his hopes up only to have them crash down. Not anymore.

"I made the visual confirmation myself. She looked a little different than the picture you gave me, but the eyes were the same."

"Was she alone?" Doyle wondered.

"She had a man with her," the voice answered.

"So, she isn't traveling alone," Doyle returned. "She is more predictable than I expected."

"Should we kill him?"

Doyle shrugged in indifference. "Go ahead; he means nothing to me. It's her I want." Doyle dropped the cigarette on the ground and crushed it out under his boot. "Let me know when they come into view."

"Do you think this is wise?" Clancy asked from his position near the road where they had set up the barricade. "What if they are armed?"

"We'll have the element of surprise on our side. Besides I don't think she's going to do anything stupid. Just worry about making sure the coast is clear while I do what I have to," Doyle commanded.

"There is a car coming!" the voice called out.

Motioning with his hand, Doyle shooed his crony back into the landscape.

_This is going to be worth the wait, _he thought, his hand caressing his Glock.  
*****

"There is a barricade up ahead," the man behind the steering wheel stated matter of fact. "Should I stop or go around it?"

The woman in the back seat looked up from the file folder in her hands. He eyes met those of the driver in the rear view mirror.

"You should stop. It might be something important." A sudden bump caused them both to reel. "What was that?" the woman cried out in alarm.

The car veered sharply to the right. With everything he had, the driver furiously turned the steering wheel to make sure the car stayed on course. Putting his all into it, the car was finally straightened and brought to a sudden stop.

"Are you okay?" the driver asked. He looked in the mirror at his charge.

"I'm fine," she replied in a shaky tone.

"I think we had a blow out." The driver pulled out his phone and dialed. "I'll call for help. You should still be able to make it to your meeting in London in time."

The woman nodded. "Thank you." She replaced her glasses and picked up the folder she had dropped earlier. Engrossed in the content, she didn't see the two figures approach the car. Nor did she hear the dull pop. But she saw the after effect as the black words on white paper were suddenly covered in red speckles.

"What in the world…?" She removed her glasses and noticed the spray of red across the lenses. "Phillip, are you alright?" she asked stupidly. Suddenly the door was thrown open.

"Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss?" the masked man asked.

Swallowing hard, Elizabeth fought the urge to fight and flee. She was still alive and that had to be good. Phillip had called for help, she reminded herself, so all was not lost. So, she nodded.

"Well, we finally meet. May I say the pleasure will be all mine?"

"What do you want?" Elizabeth asked in a regal tone that alluded to her patrician status. "Who are you?"

"You don't know me," the brogue voice continued. "But we have someone in common."

Elizabeth struggled to think of anyone she could have in common with a mad man. Her brain spun furiously as it listed every deviant she had ever crossed paths with, but came up short.

Leveling the muzzle of his gun to the Ambassador's head, Ian smiled darkly. "Think hard."

"I don't know who you are talking about," Elizabeth replied, fear gripped her in a tight vise.

"Maybe this will jar your memory: Emily Prentiss."

And in that moment, all innocence was lost.

* * *

***_Check out the climactic finale in "Sweet Glow of Mercy" - the third story in the "You Won't Get To Heaven Alive Series"***_


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